


the honey moon

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Series: Of Ghosts & Grimoires [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Politics, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Dean, Dark Magic, Falling In Love, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Omega Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: Dean begins to settle into life at Eden, making great friends and new enemies alike.  Together he and Gabriel make the trip to Berea for the anual ceremony of swearing in the new Gaurd.  As the weeks go by, each member of the castle encounters surprises, most of which none of them are prepared to face.Part 2 of the ongoing series,Of Ghosts and Grimoires.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It was the accepted practice in Babylonia 4,000 years ago that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer, and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the "honey month" or what we know today as the "honeymoon".

As they set off into the distance, Dean riding in a carriage with his new husband and his brother-in-law Gabriel, his new horse trailing behind ridden by one of the knights, he can’t help the way that he mournfully watches his kingdom disappear behind them.  This has been his home for all his life, and now he is leaving.  Off to some strange new land, with some strange new Alpha, destined to bear his children for the next three decades or so.  The thought leaves him feeling bitter.

“You care for your family very deeply,” Castiel notes, his voice gentle but still loud in the small, cramped car.  Dean jerks his head, nodding at Castiel before he quickly averts his eyes.

“Yeah, Sammy is really the only family I ever had.  Adam, too.  I raised the both of ‘em since they were babes.”

“Where was your mother?” Gabriel asks curiously.  Dean’s instinctual reaction is one of surprise that Gabriel is speaking out of turn, but Castiel makes no effort to chastise or silence him, and as Dean turns to respond to Gabriel he can’t help but recall the conversation he and Castiel engaged in yesterday.   _I will not allow myself or my wife to be controlled by such outmoded and… oppressive rules._

“She died in childbirth shortly after Sammy was born.  I was, uh... four years old, then.” He looks away when he is finished talking, staring out the window forlornly.  The cornfields pass them by, and they sit in sound silence.  It’s a bumpy ride, and Dean is quite uncomfortable until he falls asleep a few hours later, and dreams of loneliness and pain.

He wakes again when they stop to eat dinner and set up camp for the night.  He finds that it is cold here, and considering that it is still the summer months, he finds the weather odd.  He shivers, pulling his thin cloak tighter around his body and blinking the sleep from his eyes.  He startles when a voice sounds beside him, and when he looks up, he is surprised to see Gabriel still sitting beside him in their carriage car.

“If you are cold, I am certain I have a spare cloak somewhere which you can borrow.  The temperatures are lower up here in the mountains.  You’d do best to get used to the cold.”

Dean bites his lips.  “Yeah, it’s pretty chilly.  Feels like I’m freezing my nuts off,” he mumbles, and Gabriel laughs. Gabriel looks beautiful and devilish when he smiles, and Dean cannot help but smile back at the sight of his contagious grin.  They stand.

“That’s because you are dressed in nothing but scraps.  Cassie will have new clothes fashioned for you once we arrive in Eden.”

Mention of Castiel’s name makes Dean’s belly twist anxiously, though he isn’t sure if that is due entirely to nervousness.  He nods dumbly at Gabriel as he follows him out of the car and into the darkness of the night.  There are two small fires burning on opposite sides of the camp they’ve set up, each with several members of the wedding party huddled around them for warmth.  He doesn’t see Castiel anywhere, and Dean is surprised by the disappointment he feels at that realization.  He does find it a bit odd that Gabriel is the one who was there to take care of him when he woke, but then again, Castiel is the King.  He probably doesn’t have time to sit around all day and cater to his Omega bride.

“I welcome you to my humble abode,” Gabriel announces as they come to stop in front of a small tent about halfway across the camp.  As Gabriel pulls the flaps aside, Dean is startled by how bright it in inside compared to the darkness of the hilltop.  He discovers the source of the light a moment later; a small oil lamp burning in the corner, and as his eyes sweep over the interior of the tent he is even more startled to see a naked Omega woman lying on a pile of sheets and blankets in the middle of the floor.  She waves lazily at them, as she is obviously dozing between sleep and wakefulness, and Gabriel smiles mischievously at Dean.

“You can keep a secret, can’t you?” Gabriel whispers, walking over to the corner and opening up a small chest.  He pulls forth a dark blue and black cloak, tossing it to Dean.  He catches it heavily in his hands, nodding as he drapes it over his shoulders.  The material of it is much thicker than his own, and warmer too.  It covers his entire body even though Gabriel is significantly shorter than he is, and Dean finds that he rather enjoys the modesty the garment allows.  Gabriel smirks at him as they walk back out of the tent.  “Kali and I aren't mates, but we like to have fun sometimes.  You know how strict those dumb Alphas can be.”

“Of course.”

“Not that Eden’s kingdom is nearly as traditional as yours,” Gabriel muses,  “There are practically no rights for our kind in the Hunterlands.  It’s different back home.  They allow Omegas to keep audience in court, and we can own property.”

“Castiel mentioned something about that,” Dean answers.  “Though I was under the impression that Eden was a stricter land than even the Hunterlands.”

“Used to be,” Gabriel conceded, looking off into the distance thoughtfully.  “But that was when... That was before Castiel was in charge.  The laws have been revised in the past few years.  Times are changing.  Your marriage to Castiel means a lot for politics at home.” He pauses, and then he notices the troubled look on Dean’s face he smiles.  “For the better, Dean.”

Dean nods, and they walk together towards the center of the campsite where many of the men are huddled around a small fire.  Castiel, looking tired but happy, is sitting near the edge of the circle of men.  Dean settles himself so that he is seated beside his mate but not touching him.  He still isn’t sure exactly how he is supposed to act around Castiel, especially since his own culture is starting to seem more and more distinct from his husband’s. The Alpha smiles when he sees Dean and Gabriel, waving them over and wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him close.  

“Glad you could join us, Dean.  Gabriel,” Castiel casts a suspicious glance at his brother as he goes to sit by one of the larger Alpha soldiers, a devious smirk on his lips as he purposefully brushes up against the man while taking his seat.  “I haven’t seen Kali tonight.  Would you happen to know where she got off to?”

Gabriel barely suppresses the lewd snort he wants to make in response to Castiel’s suggestion, and instead shrugs innocently.  “Haven’t seen her.  Perhaps she grew tired from our travels and decided to skip dinner,” he suggests, tossing a surreptitious wink in Dean’s direction.  He blushes and looks away from Gabriel’s smirking face, and somehow nobody seems to notice.  The tall brunette Beta sitting beside him and Castiel clears his throat, offering up a plate of what looks like cured haddock.  

“Are you hungry, Your Highness?”

Dean’s cheeks turn an even darker shade of red and he nods, thanking the soldier quietly as he takes the plate from his hands.  Castiel looks over this exchange with mild interest, even reaching out to pick a few bites of meat and cheese from Dean’s plate.  His arm stays wrapped around his waist, fingers occasionally grazing Dean’s bare skin, and he finds himself shivering despite Gabriel’s heavy cloak on his shoulders and the warm fire burning in front of him.

“Chilly?” Castiel asks softly enough that only Dean can hear, his voice gentle and deep and nearly affectionate.  Dean shrugs, setting his half-finished plate down beside himself so he can lean forward and warm his hands by the fire.  He is startled a few moments later as a heavier garment is draped over his shoulders, on top of the cloak, and he turns in surprise to see that Castiel has removed his own jacket and given it to Dean.  The soft fur of the wolf pelt tickles Dean’s chin as he looks down on it in admiration.

“Won’t you be cold?” He whispers after a few moments, though he has already grown fond of the soft jacket and the warmth it brings him.  Castiel shakes his head.

“I have another just like it back at the palace.  Keep it; the mountains only become colder from this point.”

“They don’t call us the Kingdom of Clouds for nothing, your Highness,” the same Beta from earlier says to Dean.  “Highest city in all the realm, built at the peak of Angel Mountain.”

“Yes, I read that,” Dean answers proudly, recalling the historical ledgers and maps he’d poured over in the days leading up to the wedding.  Anything to help him learn more about the country he would soon serve as Queen to.  “‘Built as close to Heaven as any man could ever hope to be,’ I think that’s what my readings said,” he quotes, and the Beta nods.  Castiel lets out an indignant snort beside him, and Dean jerks his head to look up at his mate, but he pretends as if he weren’t even listening to Dean’s conversation.  Dean seems to be the only one who heard the noise anyway, so with one last curious glance in his mate’s direction he forgets about it and turns back to his conversation with the Beta. He finds out his name is Bartholomew.

“Have you lived there all your life?  Eden?”

“Not really.  I left home and moved to Berea when I was young to train for the Royal Guard.”

“And where was home?” Dean reaches down to the floor and picks up his plate again, picking at the now-cold fish as he listens to the Beta talk.

“I was born in Etham, which is below the mountains near the sea.  Though, being born is about all I ever did there.  I imagine my parents were good people, but I never got to meet them so long as I remember.  But I know they loved me because they sent me away from that hell first chance they got.  I’ve moved around a lot, and have been in Eden since I was twelve.  This Guard is my family now.”

“Hey, Bartholomew, _shut up_ and listen!  Inias is trying to tell us a story!” One of the soldiers at the other end of the circle yells while several others toss their empty cups and utensils at his face.  Bartholomew dodges the projectiles and glares at the men, making an obscene gesture with his hands before remembering that Dean is sitting right beside him.  He blushes and looks away.  Dean chuckles and turns his attention towards the other soldiers, who are now all shushing each other and egging one man- _Inias,_ Dean gathers- in the middle of them to speak.  When their clambering and yelling finally dies down enough for his words to be audible, Inias is waving his hands and trying to change the subject.

“It’s not much of a story anyway, and you’ve all heard it a hundred times.  I really don’t feel like telling it again…”

Inias is met by a chorus of boos, a few of his friends going so far as to toss rocks and stones at him as he continues to wave his arms.  He huffs, exasperated, and takes a desperate look around the circle, as if searching for an escape.

“Come on, now,” he practically whines.  “I cannot tell this story in the presence of King Castiel’s wife.  He will be scared, and then the King,” he gestures dramatically towards Castiel, wiggling his fingers, “will have my head!” He exclaims.  Castiel laughs beside Dean, and the Omega lets out a quiet huff under his breath.

“I don’t scare so easily,” Dean interjects, smirking a little at the surprised look on the young man’s face at being addressed so directly by his new Queen, “so you have nothing to worry for.  But now I am certainly curious of this story.”

There is a chorus of cheers and hollers, and Inias finally lets out a sigh of defeat.  “Fine, fine, I’ll tell it.  You win!” He growls.  He drags his hands through his long hair, frowning to himself as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and then he clears his throat.  “I was patrolling the grounds just outside of the old aqueduct, where the wagons are usually kept for the winter.  It was early autumn then, but most of the leaves were still on the trees and we’d been having a bit of a warm spell lately, so I didn’t have my jacket on.  It was just before dawn, so I could see clear enough to know what I saw.

“So I’m walking along this road, you all know the old one that goes behind the bridge and comes out on the dried-up river bank.  Except this day—and here’s the kicker, because we all know that river bed hasn’t flown for near a hundred years—the water was raging.  We hadn’t even had rain for weeks, and yet here was this waterfall right in front of me! And even odder was that it made no sound!  Can you imagine, this huge river gushing and flowing down the mountainside, and not making a single sound?  I was stumped by it too and so I just stood there, staring, when suddenly this fellow appeared in the middle of the rapids.  And he was just standing there, silent as well and stiff as a board.  No matter how hard those waves crashed against him he didn’t make a peep, nor did he budge from his place.  I called out to him to ask if he needed some help, but he never called back.  Didn’t even seem to notice me.”

The soldiers all sit in silence, rapt attention focused on their friend as he spins his tale.  Even Dean finds he is enamored by the young soldier’s words, although he has never been very fond of ghost stories.  Now that Inias realizes he has everyone’s attention focused on him he doesn’t seem so timid anymore, and his lips even curl delightfully as he continues with his story.

“I was deciding whether to jump into the water to help the man, when I spotted the most peculiar thing.  See, he wore this crown,” he pauses, eyes flicking in Castiel’s direction for just a moment before falling back on the crowd.  “The King’s crown.  But I knew it couldn’t have been the King in that river, for I had just seen him sparring in the courtyard that morning, and the ride down from the castle to the aqueduct is two hours at least, and there wasn’t a horse nearby.  But still, that crown… I knew I had to go in, so I stripped down to my breeches and dove right into the frigid water.  Swam all around looking, but the moment I jumped in the man seemed to vanish.  When I finally did manage to get out of the water I was frozen half to death and equally as scared.  I’ve never been down to the aqueduct since.”

It’s quiet, fire crackling softly as the crickets chirp loudly all around them.  Dean and Gabriel’s eyes meet for the briefest moment, but his brother-in-law simply directs a sly smirk his way before turning his attention to the Alpha by his side, who already seems to have forgotten the ghost story in favor of undressing the prince with his eyes.  Gabriel seems to be enjoying the attention, at least.  Nobody says a word, until finally the man sitting beside the storyteller coughs and nudges him with his elbow.

“You forgot to mention that you nearly drowned to death, and I was the one who saved you.”

Everyone laughs, and a soft chatter breaks out among the group, everyone laughing and passing drinks and food around as they talk about the story.  Dean and Castiel sit silently together, sharing the last bits of Dean’s dinner, until Inias approaches them, clearing his throat.

“I hope you enjoyed the story, Sire,” he says.  Dean thinks he must be talking to Castiel, but after a few seconds of awkward silence he realizes that it was he the man was addressing.  Though he isn’t exactly used to being addressed directly, especially in the presence of a (more important) noble Alpha.  He smiles easily and nods.

“It was certainly interesting.  Is it true?” He asks.  The soldier smiles with his teeth and nods.

“Of course, my liege.  Don’t you believe in ghosts?”

Dean shrugs, chewing his lips thoughtfully before he brings himself to answer.  “In spirits, I believe.  But an apparition such as the one you have described?  No.  Those exist only in books and fireside tales such as yours tonight.”

“Perhaps,” Inias shrugs, letting the subject drop.  He stretches, scratching the back of his neck and yawning loudly.  “I will take my leave now, your Highnesses.  Have a good night.” He says.  Both Dean and Castiel offer well wishes for the night as they watch him go.  After a few more minutes Castiel pats Dean’s leg and stands, stretching his own limbs out.

“It is rather late, and we have a long journey ahead.  Will you be joining me to sleep?”

Dean bites his lip nervously, wondering what Castiel expects from him, should they bunk together. When his eyes meet his mate’s he sees nothing but innocence and exhaustion there, though, so he nods and stands with the help of Castiel’s hand.  He follows the Alpha towards a small tent on the left end of the camp.  The area is just as spacious as Gabriel’s was, though not as well lit, and Dean watches Castiel settle onto a pile of blankets and quilts in the center of the tent before finally taking his own place beside the Alpha.  The blanket he drapes himself over is coarse but warm, and he tucks himself in comfortably, his body settling easily beside Castiel’s.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” He whispers into the darkness.  At first Castiel doesn’t answer, and for a quiet few moments there Dean wonders if his question will go unanswered.  But a beat passes and then Castiel is shaking his head, reaching a hand over Dean’s side to pull a second thick blanket over both of them.

“No,” he says, voice gentle but still cutting in the heavy silence the night creates, “No, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

When Dean wakes again he is lying in a warm nest of blankets and is tucked snug against his Alpha’s chest.  The early morning sun is just beginning to shine through the tent flaps.  He sighs and noses at Castiel’s neck, noting how the Alpha grumbles in his sleep, before he wiggles away and slips from his arms.  He pads outside and walks into the forest to relieve himself.

When he returns to the tent Castiel is still asleep, snoring softly with his head propped up on the pillow, a little puddle of drool staining the fabric beneath his face.  Dean chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning away from their makeshift bed and going to pick up one of his bags, which he finds has been stored in the corner.  He unfolds the fabric and withdraws from it a soft pink tunic, one of his favorites.  The fabric is worn from use but still bright and colorful, the sides of the skirt sewn with gold buttons.  He lays the tunic out on top of his bag and begins to strip, carefully folding his clothes from the day before as he undresses, until he is standing naked.  He sniffs himself, determines that he doesn’t smell too bad to warrant more than a few spritzes of rose water, and reaches for his skirt.

“Woah,” Castiel’s voice is even hoarser than usual in the early morning, and Dean jerks his head at the sound of the Alpha waking up.  Castiel is staring at him with wide eyes and Dean blushes, snatching up his discarded clothing and covering himself with it.  Castiel opens and closes his mouth dumbly, unsure of what to say, until finally he gathers the sense to look away and let Dean dress.  Dean is still blushing even after fastening  the last of his buttons and settles onto the edge of their makeshift bed to comb his hair, but Castiel doesn’t make any untoward comment, and so he tries to forget it.  

“In the future,” Castiel starts as he shuffles out of bed, doing a job of trying (and failing) to conceal his prominent erection from Dean as he walks to the other end of the tent and begins to lay out his own clothing for the day, “feel free to hang a drape for privacy, or go to Gabriel’s tent to equip yourself.  His handlady, Kali, should be more than willing to accommodate you for the remainder of our trip.”

Dean swallows thickly and nods, recalling the woman he met in Gabriel’s tent yesterday evening.  All he can seem to remember now are her nipples, and he finds it unsettling.  “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.  I thought you were sleeping.”

“No, no,” Castiel is quick to assure him, nearly tripping over his half-buttoned trousers and he turns to look at Dean.  “I simply wanted to assure that _you_ are comfortable,” the Alpha’s own cheeks darken when he realizes he is now entirely facing Dean, erection barely restrained by his undergarments.  He pulls his pants up all the way and fastens the last button, then pulls on a thick cotton shirt over his bare chest.  “Speaking of which… I won’t deny you look stunning in silk, but I fear you may catch a cold wearing such thin material.”

Dean peers down at his body, picking the pink fabric between his fingers and frowning to himself.  “I can wear a cloak,” he suggests.  Castiel doesn’t look very impressed by the suggested solution, and once again Dean finds himself growing self-conscious about his clothing choices.  “I don’t have anything much thicker than this,” he huffs in exasperation.  The Alpha sighs.

“Here,” he grunts and tosses a long-sleeved shirt in Dean’s direction.  It’s gray, and it smells like peppermint and firewood and sweat.  It smells like Castiel.  Dean’s eyes narrow and he looks pointedly in Castiel’s direction.

“You’re scent marking me?”

“No,” he immediately denies the accusation– because that’s what it is, no matter how innocently Dean put it–and his cheeks turn bright crimson.  

“Really?  First your jacket, now one of your shirts…,” Dean licks his lips and wiggles his eyebrows, “You are _totally_ scent marking me.” He smirks at Castiel and puffs his chest out, a challenge, and is surprised when Castiel submits to the gesture with an exasperated sigh.  

“Oh, stop looking so smug and put the shirt on already.  You’ll be safer if you smell like me, anyway,” he grumbles, then stalks out of the tent.  Dean is left giggling to himself as he shrugs the worn garment over his shoulders and hastens to follow the Alpha out of the tent and into the clearing where the Guard and the rest of the wedding party are convening for breakfast.  Castiel fixes plates for them both, loading a platter with slices of bread, salted meat and cheese.  Dean thanks him and watches as the Alpha heads off to make conversation with Bartholomew, who seems to be the officer in charge of their journey.  Dean goes to find a place beside Gabriel, who is already sitting with Kali and Hannah.  All three look towards Dean as he approaches, Hannah smiling politely and Kali letting her eyes travel up and down his form, assessing.  She is as beautiful in the daylight as she was at dusk the night before, though Dean cannot decide whether to be infatuated or intimidated by her good looks and proud demeanor.  He decides to make up his mind on the issue later, once he’s had more time to get to know her and the rest of the people he will be living with from now on, in the Kingdom of Eden.

“You stink like my brother,” Gabriel announces, tone unreadable, and the bluntness of his statement combined with the mildly accusatory tone Gabriel takes with it throw Dean off guard for a moment.  Just as Dean begins to stammer out a reply Gabriel laughs and smiles, scooting over to allow a space for his fellow Omega to sit.  “Relax, my friend.  Now the dumb formalities of the wedding are over, you can honestly sit back and do whatever you want.  Nobody is going to judge you, least of all myself.”

“Well, he can’t just do _whatever_ he wants,” Hannah huffs at Gabriel, carrying on to her brother pedantically, “Dean will be expected to attend court, to listen to the lobbies of the citizens, and to sire an heir with Castiel,” she adds on, as an afterthought and most likely in response to the wide-eyed expression on Dean’s face, “eventually, of course.  None of those matters are essentially crucial.”

“Han-Han,” Gabriel drawls, and the nickname has the immediate effect of making his sister bristle and glare at him, “there are no such laws in our kingdom which require any Omega to serve as broodmare to the King.  Stop trying to scare Dean away.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that,” Hannah growls back, then turns to Dean with a much softer expression on her face, “I wasn’t trying, I swear.  It’s simply… the arrangement of this marriage has had great effect on the political situation in our country.  For months now Castiel has been attempting to assert himself as King, but without a Queen by his side there have been quite a few… more traditional governors, I will say, in our land, who have refused to accept his leadership.  They’ve been calling for him to take a wife or consort, at least, to prove his virility as an Alpha.  And it hasn’t helped that there have been so many rumors…,” Hannah trails off, cheeks glowing brightly, and Dean’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Rumors of what?” He wonders.  Gabriel coughs and drags a hand over his face, while Hannah looks away.  This leaves Dean and Kali as the only two participants left in the conversation, which has been awkward from the beginning but is growing more uncomfortable by the minute. The two of them simply stare at each other in the silence.  Dean feels as if he’s entered some sort of creepy contest with the dark-skinned woman, where whoever stares the longest will win, until finally she suddenly smirks, leans forward and whispers to Dean.

“The rumor is that King Castiel prefers to receive a knot more than he does to give one.”  

Dean’s reaction is probably exactly what the woman was hoping for: wide eyes, blushing cheeks, and a jaw hanging almost down to the floor in shock.  Gabriel hisses between his teeth and Hannah still refuses to look back at the three of them.  Dean looks down at the plate of food in his lap and awkwardly fingers a slice of bread, slowly bringing the crusty piece up to his lips before popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly.

“Well,” he finally starts, after the shock of what Kali so boldly proclaimed has dissipated and they’ve all fallen back into an awkward silence, “I can confirm for you from first-hand experience that the King very much enjoys having sex with Omegas.  Or at least, having sex with me, and I am an Omega after all.” He clears his throat, then carries on brazenly when he sees the amused smile twisting on Kali’s face.  “In fact, the mere sight of the Omega form aroused him so greatly this morning, I nearly thought he was going to—”

“Oh now, that’s enough!” Hannah interrupts, face red and cheeks splotchy as she stands up and hastily begins to gather her belongings.  She nearly drops her entire plate, but Kali catches it for her before it can fall.  In her haste to leave she doesn’t even thank the woman, simply storming off to go sit with someone else.  Gabriel immediately dissolves into a fit of laughter once she’s gone, and Kali sits beside them both smirking as if she were the cat who caught the canary.  

“I can’t believe…,” Gabriel wheezes, hand on his stomach as he doubles over with laughter, “you said that… to my sister!”

Dean shrugs, popping a piece of cured meat into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.  “She was the one who brought it up.  Besides, what was I supposed to say?  Tell her my husband is a Sapphic?”

“I just can’t believe you went into that much detail with her,” Gabriel cries, and there are actual tears streaming down his face now as he dissolves into another fit of laughter.  “Oh, she’s going to have a pin in her hind for the next week, now!”

Dean frowns.  “Should I go apologize?”

“No,” it’s Kali who speaks now, because Gabriel is still laughing too hard to say anything understandable.  “She always finds something or other to be uptight about.  It just as well could have been a spoiled slice of meat which unsettled her, or you describing her brother’s sex life in detail.  She’ll get over it.”

Dean nods dumbly, and Kali smiles at him almost deviously.  

“You and I are going to get along well, my Queen.  I know it already.”

After breakfast is finished the horses are saddled up again, and the whole party begins their journey all over again.  With more hours of daylight ahead of them than they’d had the day before, they make excellent headway and just after dusk, they reach the gates of the Kingdom of Eden.  Dean crowds up to the window of the carriage when Castiel announces their approach to the city limits, peering out into the darkness and trying to assess their surroundings.  He spots a building far in the distance which looks like an aqueduct, though its dilapidated and crumbling now, and a few moments later can hear rushing water.  He thinks of Inias and the soldier’s grand story from the night before, and then the carriage turns and the aqueduct is no longer in his sight.  He sees a high wall in the distance, and that is when he knows for certain, without even needing to be told, they have reached the outskirts of Eden.

“This is the Lower Town,” Castiel’s voice is no louder than a whisper, as he does not want to wake Gabriel or Kali, both of whom had somehow managed to fall asleep—piled on top of each other—on their long and bumpy journey up the mountain.  “We will arrive at the city gates momentarily.”  Dean nods in acknowledgement of Castiel’s words before turning back to the window and peering out again, feeling the cool wind on his face and relishing in the feeling it brings him.  The summer is never this cool back home, but Dean doesn’t feel bad to be missing the heat.  He hears the rattling of chains in the distance as the gates are opened to allow them through, and a bell ringing out loudly in the silence of the night, as a signal of their arrival into the city.  This moment marks a change in his life, and for the first time since he stated his vows Dean comes to the realization that he is married now, but the idea doesn’t make him so scared anymore.  Not with Castiel sitting here beside him, his Alpha presence warm and reassuring rather than stifling in the way he always felt around his father.  Dean lives this moment as himself, but also cannot help but feel as if he were watching it play out from somewhere far away, and for some reason, even the chill of the wind on his face cannot seem to take away the warmth blooming in his chest as their carriage makes it passage through the city gates.   _Perhaps_ , he wonders to himself, with the wind on his face and the gentle press of Castiel’s arm against his side in the close quarters of their carriage, _this change was what I really needed all along._

The wind doesn’t blow as strongly within the city limits, the great wall which surrounds the royal palace serving as a barrier between the harsh elements and the people of the town.  Still, it’s chilly when Dean and Castiel pile out of the carriage, followed shortly by a groggy-looking Gabriel and cranky Kali (though whenever she wasn’t at least a little cranky, Dean couldn’t be sure).  Dean pulls Castiel’s thick jacket closer around his shoulders, taking comfort in the warmth it provides and the residual scents of peppermint and firewood his mate left on the fabric.  He looks around.  The sky is dark but he can still make out the distinct shapes of buildings and market stalls, and a little further down the road small huts where the townsfolk sleep.  Some have even gathered at their doorways, most likely awakened by the church bells still ringing loudly in the distance, and those few crane their necks through the dark to get a better look at the returning wedding party.  Dean feels self-conscious suddenly, and he shuffles backward, accidentally colliding right with his mate’s broad chest.  

Castiel’s hands reach out and grip his arms, gentle but firm as they guide him forward.  “Come, we’ll go to the castle now and settle in for the night.  It’s too late now to make any introductions, but come dawn the sun will be up again and the people will want to meet their new Queen,” he pauses, and Dean can’t tell but he’s fairly certain Castiel is smiling at him.  “You’ll probably want to get some rest before.”

Dean nods, following wordlessly after Castiel and the rest of the wedding party, who have begun the walk up a steep hill towards the palace.  His Alpha’s hands are warm and comforting on the small of his back, guiding him forward, but Dean still can’t help but feel vulnerable.

“Will they… expect anything?” He finally asks.  Castiel is silent for a moment, then hums thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?  Are you asking me how you should act?”

“Uh…,” he coughs, “yeah, how should I?  Hannah said I’d be expected to attend Royal Court and… and I don’t know.  Do Royal Omega stuff.  But I don’t know what that means here, really.”

“Well,” Castiel starts, pausing contemplatively for a moment before he speaks.  “You’ve seen how Gabriel acts, and he’s a Royal Omega.  Just act like yourself; however you please.  Though…,” he trails off for a moment, then snorts, “I would ask that you don’t model your behavior _so much_ after Gabriel.  He is certainly not the best role model.”

Dean can’t help but chuckle at that, a hearty laugh that has his face splitting into a wide grin.  A grin which quickly turns into a grimace as he’s struck upside the back of his head, Castiel receiving a twin blow which silences both of them fairly quickly.  Dean turns to see Gabriel with his arms crossed over his chest and looking smug behind them, and he rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to Castiel.

“So you don’t want me to kneel?”

“Kneel?” Castiel makes a ridiculous face, nose scrunched in disgust. Then he frowns. “Do you want to kneel?” Castiel asks, and Dean swallows thickly.  Of course, he doesn’t want to kneel.  He’s hated kneeling since the first day he presented, and would have given anything to never kneel again.  So now, to be given the option…

“I never want to kneel again!” The urgency of this pronouncement takes even Dean by surprise, and he immediately ducks his head down, heartbeat thudding in his ears as he feels his chest constrict.  He curses himself, wondering what came over him that he would ever so much as consider speaking to an Alpha like that.  He half expects to be slapped, to be told he will be _forced_ to kneel now, to be shoved to his knees at his Alpha’s feet and made to beg forgiveness, like his father had known any good Omega should.

But instead the warm hand on his back only strokes back and forth, not in an act of aggression or control but as one of comfort, and Castiel addresses him gently, voice low, “Then you shall never kneel again.”

Dean sniffs and nods, only glancing up at the Alpha for a moment before he averts his eyes, Castiel’s stare far too concerned for his liking.  He wonders idly if anything his mate does will ever make sense to him.

When they reach the palace they are swiftly escorted inside, and within the walls of the castle the temperature is much warmer than it was outside.  Dean didn’t realize he was shivering before, exposed legs trembling from the cold mountain air, but now he’s inside he can feel the warmth saturating his body down to the bones.  It’s a wonderful feeling, and he smiles happily up at Castiel, who looks pleased to see Dean is pleased.

“This is the grand foyer,” Castiel gestures his arm wide around the room, marble floors glinting in the light of a huge fireplace, which is flickering and burning hot on the left wall of the room.  Pictures hang on the walls beside the fireplace, and it’s too dark for Dean to make out any details but he’s certain they are royal portraits.  His own portrait hangs on the wall beside his bed room back at home—or rather, back in _The Hunterlands_ , because Eden is his home now—and Dean wonders how long it will be before Castiel takes him to the royal artist to be painted.  He hates modeling for portraits; being made to stay in the same position for hours as the artist works is treacherously boring.  Though it probably wouldn’t be so bad if Castiel’s promise was true, and he was allowed to sit or stand rather than kneel.

The rest of the room is decorated the same as any grand foyer Dean has ever seen; tapestries hang heavily from the walls across from the fireplace, two magnificent clothes of gray and blue color, with a coat of arms embroidered in the center of both clothes.  In the dark of the foyer Dean can once again barely make out the details of the artwork, but it looks to him like a large eagle holding a shield on the coat, its wings flared about its huge body.  An antique-looking clavichord sits propped against the wall, cover propped open and ivory keys shining in the firelight.  Dean fingers delicately at the keys, not pressing them down so hard as to make any noise but brushing his fingers against their surface. Castiel steps closer, resting his own hand atop the instrument and letting his fingertips glide over the polished bone surface of the keys.

“Do you play?”

“Oh,” Dean is startled by the question despite having known Castiel’s presence beside him, and he presses down on a single key, listening to the note vibrate and echo through the grand foyer.  “Yes. Royal Omegas in my kingdom are expected to learn many instruments.  I can also play the harp, bagpipes and the flute,” Dean doesn’t even realize he is bragging, and he blushes at the kind smile Castiel directs his way.  He ducks his head and lets his chin fall to his chest.  “In my kingdom, knowing music is a status symbol, s’all.”

“I will make sure we get you some new instruments, then, so you can practice.  I would love to listen sometime if you are willing to hold audience,” he reaches out with his palm up, nodding encouragingly at Dean so that the Omega takes his hand and allows himself to be led away.  “The kitchen should have some food prepared; they were expecting us earlier this evening, but the trip took a bit longer than we had anticipated.  Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” Dean admits, following Castiel down a flight of dimly lit stairs.  Gabriel appears beside them both momentarily, cloak sweeping the floor behind him gracefully.

“Me too.  I hope they made us that delicious beef and barley stew of theirs… Did you request it, Cassie?”  He looks to his brother hopefully, and Castiel chuckles.

“Yes, Gabe, they should have it ready and waiting for you.”  Before he’s even finished the sentence Gabriel is speeding away, quickly followed after by Hannah, his twin’s hair pulled up now into a tight bun and a frown on her face as she breezes past Dean and Castiel.  Dean feels his cheeks warm at the memory of their lewd conversation the night before, but he quickly pushes the thoughts away when Castiel squeezes his hand.

“I know the family is large, but don’t be timid.  This is your home now, and you should feel free to be yourself.  I will never judge you, and nobody else here should either.”

Dean smiles softly, nodding gratefully at his husband.  “Thank you, Cas.”  The nickname rolls off his tongue so naturally Dean isn’t even aware he’s said if before Castiel’s eyes crinkle at the corners and he smiles a genuine, flattered grin.

“Hmm, _Cas_.  I like it.”  They pause at the kitchen doors before going forward any further.  The symphonies of eating and excited conversation filter through the heavy oak doors, and Dean’s stomach twists when he realizes this will be his first true meal as the Queen of Eden. Not that it should matter so much, but Dean is young and he's scared, whether he should want to admit it or not, and he doesn't know what to think of all these new experiences.  Castiel reaches out to rest his hand on Dean’s shoulder, urging him forward and opening the door for him.  “Come on, let’s go on and join them.”

The days pass by with little to note, but quickly all the same, and Dean and Castiel fall into sync simply.  They’re personalities work well together; Castiel kind and calm but firm to his word, and Dean opening up to becoming the proud and outspoken Omega he always was underneath the surface.  Each morning they wake with each other just a little after dawn; Dean stays in bed until Castiel has dressed himself, and once he's heard the Alpha leave the room he rouses himself out of bed to equip himself and make up his face for the day. He's not as skilled at the task as Lisa was back at home, so he doesn't typically apply anything but crushed berries to his lips, or nothing at all, but the few times Kali or Gabriel offered to help him in the morning he refused anyway. He didn't like to be fussed over, and Castiel never seemed to have any complaint for his appearance.  Quite the opposite, in fact, because he'd confessed Dean handsome more than once when he wasn't wearing any makeup at all.

They see a fair amount of each other during the day. Castiel likes for Dean to attend court, and when he's given his own seat and his own voice, Dean finds he actually enjoys attending the lengthy meetings. He listens diligently to every councilman as they speak, about the bountiful harvest this season and the troubles with the dam flooding into the nearby fields, washing cattle and other animals down the river and up on the shores.  The guard wants to increase their patrols of the woods because of the wolf attacks on the southern border, and the farmers were suffering from the attacks on livestock.  Castiel is always attentive and fair, and when he listens in court Dean realizes that he is actually concerned with how his people are living.  The way Castiel rules his kingdom is nothing like the authoritarian method his father uses back at home.  The way Castiel rules Eden’s throne is how Dean imagines Sam will rule the Hunterlands one day.

When they aren’t at court--which is only held three times per week and doesn’t take nearly as much time as it used to back home--Dean is often left to his own devices.  He spends the first few days living in his new home hiding out in the palace’s enormous library, borrowing stacks full of books to pour over in his free time.  He wants to learn all he can about Eden, the kingdom he will rule over with Castiel for many more years.  He spends time with Gabriel too, who busies himself by following the guard around most of the day and flirting with the Alphas as they train.  They appreciate his company and often allow him to join in on their drills, which he takes seriously for about two minutes before he’s goofing around again and tackling one of the Alphas into an impromptu wrestling match.

It all seems a little too friendly behavior for Dean to be engaging in with the soldiers, despite Castiel’s insistence that he is free to do whatever he pleases, so he doesn’t participate.  But he is amused watching Gabriel’s antics, so he stays with him and makes jokes with him.  He may not be willing to throw himself into the mud alongside Gabriel and the Alphas of the guard, if only for his status as Queen and in respect of Castiel, but he loves playing pranks alongside him.  They stick itching powder in the soldier’s cots, hollow out apples and fill them with with ants, send false notes back and forth between court advisors to create confusion at chamber meetings, painting pornographic pictures on stones and tossing them over the stone wall which divides the public courtyard from the council men's barracks.  More often than not this means he and Gabriel end up scolded by Metatron, top advisor to the court, and dragged back to the palace like naughty pups sequestered to the corner for timeout.  He tries often to get Castiel upset over what they’ve done, but Dean quickly learns that all he needs to do is smile and bat his lashes, or kiss Castiel’s cheek and whisper he’s _sorry_ , and the Alpha will forgive them.  Gabriel is quick to take advantage of this superpower when he and Dean discover it, and they spend hours together laughing and wreaking havoc all over the castle grounds.

He and Castiel spend much of their time together as well.  More often than not Castiel participates in training with the guard, so when Dean is fooling around with Gabriel on the training grounds he is also watching his husband train as well.  It’s the only time Dean joins in with the guards during training; if Castiel asks him to spar or fence.  Dean may be an Omega but he is also a strong man, and he makes a fair fight against Castiel.  Of course, when they spar each other it ends with both of them on the floor wheezing from exertion and laughter, but it’s all just as well.  They practice their archery together and ride horses in the meadow behind the castle when the weather permits.  Castiel is always pleased to see Dean enjoying his time with Chevy, and Dean chalks it up to some sort of Alpha-Husband-Pride thing he doesn’t understand.  He still endeavors to spend as much time as possible with his horse.

Out on a ride, Castiel leans forward so that his body is nearly laid flat over the back of his steed, his heels pressing into the animal’s flank as he urges her into a full gallop. His thighs ache as he bounces on the horse's back, wind pushing through his hair and forcing the dark curls to fall into his eyes. He hears laughter someplace behind his back, and when he turns his head he sees Chevy gaining on him. He spots Dean too, sitting atop her sleek form and smiling bright as the sun. He smirks at the young Omega, then turns back and squeezes his legs harder, grunting as his horse jerks into a more urgent gallop. Chevy keeps a steady pace just behind him, and he and Dean race until they reach the glen on the outskirts of the castle grounds.

Dean grins as he hops down from Chevy’s back, leading her to the river bank and tying her to a nearby tree. She nuzzles his shoulder affectionately before stepping into the shallow water and bending to drink. Dean leaves her, sauntering over to Castiel and leaning against his horse, whom he still has not dismounted.  “You are a very handsome rider, Castiel.”

The King laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners as he turns away to hide his faint blush.  “Is that a flirtation, your Highness?” He teases, nudging Dean with his foot. The Omega laughs and bats his shoe away, shrugging.

“Take it or leave it.”

“I get the impression that if I were to say the same to you, I would be accused of objectifying my Omega,” he smirks. Dean snorts and rolls his eyes, smile still bright on his face as he turns to walk back to his horse. She's done drinking now, but her snout is still wet with river water and slobber which she promptly wipes off on Dean’s tunic.

“So I'm your Omega now, huh?” Dean teases, and before he can let Castiel get upset by the harmless dig he adds, “You’d be accused with good reason, my friend. Such a compliment from you would obviously be directed at my rump rather than at me, and so would be considered objectifying.”

Castiel laughs outright, not helped by the fact of Dean wiggling his butt as his speaks.  He watches Dean meander down towards the shore, plopping himself down on a rock and reaching for his shoes.  He wrestles them off, wiggling his toes in triumph when he finally frees them from his tight shoes.  Since moving to Eden, Dean has taken a particular liking to wearing heavy boots and trousers, an indulgence he was never allowed in his father’s kingdom.  Omegas in the Hunterlands--particularly Royal Omegas--were expected to follow a strict dress code of skirts and dresses with sandals or otherwise no shoes at all.  Castiel supposes the weather there is warm enough to permit the short, thin dresses Castiel has seen stowed away in Dean’s closet, but he still can’t help but pass judgement on King Winchester and his silly rules.  Dean loves wearing trousers; he leaps around like a child and runs about with a gleeful smile on his lips whenever he can wear them, and Castiel cannot imagine ever denying his husband and friend such a simple pleasure as the clothes he prefers to wear.

“Are you going to sit on your horse all day and stare at me?” Dean snarks from the river bank, splashing his feet in the cool water.  Castiel chuckles and wordlessly dismounts his mare, guiding her closer to where Chevrolet is standing so she can also take a drink.  Then he toes off his own boots, padding along the soft earth of the river bank to sit down beside Dean.

“Hannah told me how you set fire to her skirt yesterday, in the courtyard.  She was rather upset,” he starts.  Dean’s breath hitches and he looks up at Castiel nervously, but smiles in relief when he sees that the Alpha isn't angry. He tries to keep his features cooled, lips pulled tight and serious, but his eyes betray him as they twinkle with amusement.  “You know how worked up she gets; you shouldn’t _try_ to get on her bad side.”

“I wasn’t even the one who started the fire, though,” Dean laughs and Castiel sighs, shaking his head.

“Metatron says I ought to do something about all the trouble you cause around the palace.  He says Omegas need discipline to function,” he pauses, chewing his bottom lip and leaning down to pick a smooth stone from the floor.  He turns it over and over in his fingers, eyes twinkling as he smirks over at Dean.  “What do you think of that? Should I take you and Gabriel over my knee next time you misbehave?”

Dean snorts and smiles, teeth flashing in the sun.  He snatches the stone from Castiel’s hands and skips it over the water perfectly, from one side of the bank to the other end.  It’s not a wide river, but the skip is still impressive.  “I bet Metatron would like to watch that.  He’s sort of a creepy guy, don’t you think?”

“Metatron is sexist, pedantic, narcissistic, ignorant… He’s an excellent military strategist of course, and a good scribe, which is why I keep him as my advisor.  But he is a vile human being in every other way,” he pauses, sighing softly and passing another flat stone to Dean.  The Omega skips it easily, though the rock sinks halfway across the river this time.  “He’s annoying, really, and I try to ignore everything he tells me about you and Gabriel.  But try not to give him reason to complain, will you?”

“But Cas,” Dean whines, leaning back and letting his head fall against his shoulder, “it’s so _boring_ in the castle all day.  What are Gabe and I supposed to do?”

“Anything other than set Hannah on fire,” Castiel deadpans, and Dean laughs, holding his belly as he doubles over.  Castiel grins, shaking his head, and elbows Dean in the side.  “I’m being serious, Dean.  Go explore the castle.  There’s a trap door in the library floor; it leads to the dungeons.”

“The castle doesn’t have any dungeons,” Dean rolls his eyes.  Within the first month of his occupancy Dean had explored the entire labyrinth of the palace, mostly with Gabriel accompanying him, and had visited every room the two could find a key to.  There were trap doors and “secret” tunnels under the building, but none that wandered into any interesting rooms or treasure troves.  Mostly, the castle was just as mundane as Dean’s old home in the Hunterlands.

“There is a dungeon,” Castiel insists, brow furrowed.  Dean raises his eyebrows, the conviction in Castiel’s voice catching him off guard.  He’s just about to ask for an elaboration when the Alpha smirks and says, “it’s where we keep the dragons.”

“You’re a fool,” Dean chides, grin splitting his face.  He nudges Castiel hard, toppling him over.  He falls face first into the cold river water, arms flailing for a moment before he regains his balance and springs up.  His hair is sopping now and hangs dripping in his face, which is flushed with embarrassment and, despite what may appear as anger to some, is actually amusement.  He points at Dean, yelling threats of recompense and spanking once he catches Dean, who is already hastening to mount Chevrolet and get the hell out of dodge.  Castiel is quick on his heels, but Dean is smaller, faster and _dry_ enough that his clothes don’t weigh down his every step.

He grins back at Castiel as he remounts his horse, eyes alight with glee, and Castiel wonders if there was ever magic invented that could capture a specific moment in time and allow you to live there forever.  If such magic did exist, Castiel thinks he would like to live in this instant for the rest of his life.  Well, if he were dry, at least.

Dean looks back only once to see that Castiel is really okay, and the Alpha takes that moment as his opportunity to promise Dean revenge.  He laughs back at him, a fat smile on his face, “Oh yeah?  What, are you going to do, take me _over your knee_ ?  I’d like to see you _try_.”

He laughs, shakes his head, and kicks at his horse’s side. He and Dean speed back to the stables, and this time, Dean makes sure to win the race.

Castiel can't say he minds the view one bit.

Another two weeks fly by faster than Dean can mark the days down on the calendar.  He splits his time mostly between Gabriel and Castiel, attending court, and writing to Sam.  He endeavors to write every day, though he does forget sometimes, and he sends his letters along with the trading caravans every morning.  He receives letters from Sam just as often as he writes his own, and he enjoys reading them in the sunny courtyard behind the palace.

Today he receives a letter regaling him of Sam’s newest adventure into the lower town, where he met with the local school children and played pretend-soldiers with them.  At the end of the day he passed out toy tops and dice to each of the children before making the journey back home.  Dean wonders if there’s a school down in the village below Eden, and if Castiel has ever visited it.  He wonders if maybe he should, some day.

He takes the morning to craft his response to Sam, a lengthy dissertation of everything he has done in the last few days at court and in his leisure time.  Just the other afternoon he'd been watching the guard train when an extra set of armory became available, and he and Gabriel took turns swinging at each other with the practice swords. He'd overpowered his brother-in-law, but then Gabriel pulled a dirty move and kneed him in the crotch. They'd been asked to leave practice after that for ‘creating a disturbance’, but Dean was fairly certain all the soldiers were more than happy to sit and watch two Omegas wrestle each other in the mud.

When he's finished writing his letter Dean walks the grounds, traveling from the main building and across the courtyard to the east tower, where Gabriel’s quarters are located. He’s in the mood to ride Chevrolet out to the pasture beyond the city gates, but he doesn't want to go alone today. Castiel has been missing since before breakfast, attending to some urgent matter in the lower village, and Dean feels want for some company.

He doesn't mean to intrude, of course. The last thing Dean ever wanted to see was his brother-in-law’s bony ass stuck up in the air and squirming, two different Omegas--one he recognizes as Kali and the other a strange young man he's never seen before--writhing beneath him, so of course that is what Dean walked in on when he opened the door to Gabriel’s chamber. He slams it shut almost immediately upon entering, cursing loudly enough for everyone inside the room to hear. Gabriel laughs on the other side of the door.

“That's why you're supposed to knock before you walk into someone's bedroom, Dean-o.” He calls. Dean grits his teeth.

“I'm sorry. How'd you know it was me?” He calls back. Gabriel laughs again.

“Just knew. You want to join in?” He calls. Dean rolls his eyes and pushes off the doorframe.

“No thanks. I'll see you later, Gabe.” As he's walking away he hears a high pitched shriek through the doorway, followed by more laugher and a disgustingly loud moan. Dean shakes his head and wonders if there's anything else he can do to pass the time.  He wanders out of the hallway leading down to Gabe’s room, turning left and following a vast stairwell upward. He knows that if he goes far up enough, he’ll make it to the turret wall. Some fresh air sounds good right about now.

His slippers make barely a sound against the marble floors as he pads down the hallway, gazing with wonder and mild horror at the portraits hung sporadically along the walls. Each is the same picture of Alpha King and Omega Wife posing in the grand throne room he's just walked through, or at least they appear to be at first glance, until one studies the images more closely and realizes that the subjects of each portrait are different.  A new Alpha King sits upon the throne in each portrait, crown laid perfectly upon their head. By their feet kneel their Omega wives, some even with multiple wives lined up one behind the other. Some are heavily pregnant while already nursing one child at their teat. The pictures show a clear hierarchy, a symbol of the Omegas’ status in this household.  Dean’s stomach churns and he forces himself to look away, subconsciously wrapping his cloak closer around his body. He’s glad to know Castiel won’t make him kneel.

At the end of the hall there is one picture in particular which gives Dean pause, and he has to do a double take before he realizes that the Alpha subject of the painting is not in fact Castiel. The man resembles him so closely it's hard to tell at first; the Alpha sitting upon his throne with a stern look on his face, messy black hair and piercing blue eyes. A beautiful blonde Omega female kneels beside him with her head bowed in submission, eyes to the floor. This portrait is scribed with a date, marked only two years prior to the current calendar. Dean realizes with a start that this must be a portrait of Castiel’s late brother Michael.

The hallway ends abruptly after that, a cold brick wall greeting Dean when he finally tears his eyes away from the portrait of Michael and his mate.  He squeezes his eyes closed and presses himself against the bricks, and suddenly he is overwhelmed by the feeling of being trapped. Even as he looks away he cannot seem to get the image of the kneeling blonde Omega from his mind, and he wonders what must have become of her after her mate passed away. Returned to her family, he supposes, to be traded off to some other Alpha prince or king down the line. He wonders what would become of him if Castiel were to pass away, but quickly casts the morbid thought from his mind. He's actually starting to grow rather fond of his quirky mate.

Dean isn't quite sure what happens in the next few seconds, but suddenly he goes from quietly pondering his relationship with Castiel to lying flat on his ass. His breath gets caught in his throat for a moment before he curses loudly, hands sliding against the dusty tile of the floor-- wait, wasn't there a rug beneath his feet mere seconds ago? He frowns and looks up, around, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. The room he's quite literally fallen into is small, the air musty and warm, and in the far corner there is a dusty, unused desk covered in books. There's a bookshelf against the other wall, and when Dean finally gets his bearings about him enough to stand again, he realizes that the wall he was leaning against was actually a hidden doorway; the brick layered door skids against the floor when Dean kicks it, propped open against the wall.

He lets out a heavy sigh and pushes himself to his feet, dusting his grimy hands off on his skirt and slowly looking around.  Now that he’s upright he can stop and take in the details of the tiny room.  He pads softly to the corner, pulling out the creaky chair from under the desk.  He drags his fingers through the inch-thick layer of dust, grimacing at the dirt left on his hands and flicking it away, watching it float away in the musty air.  He turns his attention back to the desk, frowning, and reaches out experimentally to finger at some glass vials lying scattered on the surface.  Small bowls and weights lie scattered on the desk and floor, some broken and others still intact, most empty but some still filled with crushed herbs and pebbles and sand.  Dean knows better than to touch or sniff those, though, so he leaves them be and turns his attention to the pile of manuscripts in the center of the desk.  He uses his sleeve to dust off the cover of the first book he can reach.  His eyes widen at the cover and he jerks his hand away, as if merely touching the pages will poison him.

 _The Clavicule of Solomon_ sits heavily upon the finished oak surface of the desk, red cover faded to a dull pink-gray, inky black letters spelling out the title in a neat script.  Dean’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he suddenly feels as though he can’t breath.  He takes a timid step closer to the desk and peeks suspiciously at the grimoire, wondering what on earth such a vile book is even doing in the palace.  He reaches out, curiosity overtaking his fear, and lifts the cover of the book.  A huge puff of dust gets him in the face and he coughs, flipping through the pages until he finds himself in the center of the book, a single thread of red lace marking the page off as special.  His brow furrows and he leans in to study the writing closer, but it is in a strange language he doesn’t understand.  Perhaps Greek, or Arabic.  There is a crude drawing of a man lying in a bed, his eye sockets sunken in and cheeks hollowed, giving him the appearance of a skeleton.  But his eyes are open, and standing above him is depicted a friar, his hands glowing and a human heart held aloft in his palm.

“What are you doing in here?”

Dean nearly jumps out of his own skin as he slams the book closed, dust flying everywhere.  He pivots, eyes bugging out of his head when he spots Hannah standing in the doorway of the room, eyes narrowed and lips turned down in an annoyed scowl.

“I just-- the door swung open and I-- I tripped and--”  he flinches when Hannah suddenly reaches out and snatches him by the arm, yanking him out of the room and slamming the door shut behind them.  When he glances back all he sees is a brick wall, and if he didn’t know any better he wouldn’t even be able to tell there was a doorway there.  He swallows thickly and adjusts his skirt, flattening the wrinkles and brushing off the last of the dust left on the fabric.  He squirms under the scrutinizing gaze of his sister-in-law.  “Hannah, those books…”

“Forget whatever you saw in there.  Nobody is permitted to visit this section of the castle, didn’t Castiel tell you that?” Before Dean can answer she scoffs in agitation, rolling her eyes at him.  “No, of course he didn’t, because you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty Omega finger.  I swear, you and Gabriel both are simply...” She trails off with a shake of her head, mouth set in a firm line, and leads Dean down the hallway at a swift pace.  She releases him only once they’ve made it back into the main corridor.  She closes the heavy doors leading into the hallway behind her and purses her lips.  “Castiel sent me looking for you.  He wishes for you to accompany Gabriel on a journey to Berea to visit the squires and knights who will soon be joining the Royal Guard.  You will be accompanied by Bartholomew and Inias for protection, of course.”

Dean worries his bottom lip between his teeth.  He spares one last glance down the hallway behind them before he turns back to Hannah, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  “What about Cas?  He’s staying here?”

“Cas _tiel_ will be attending some important council meetings while you are away.  I am sure you can ask him about it before you leave.  Now, come with me.  I will escort you back to your chambers so you can pack some clothing.  The Guard is waiting for you both in the stables, so do try to be hasty.”

The walk through the courtyard and back to his chambers is too long and awkwardly quiet.  Hannah doesn’t speak, but it's probably better off that way.  Dean’s mind is racing too quickly to allow for him to engage in any kind of cohesive conversation at the moment, and even then, he’s not sure what he would say.  Stumbling upon a hidden room filled with grimoires and spellbooks isn’t something Dean ever prepared himself for.  Even when Castiel told him there were hidden rooms inside the castle, Dean never expected to actually find anything this terrifying.  He wonders, briefly, if his husband meant for him to find that room.  But then he recalls the lighthearted smile on his face, and the laughter in his eyes as he’d encouraged Dean to go looking for the castle’s ‘secret dungeon’.  There had been nothing serious about Castiel’s suggestion, certainly nothing malicious.  He wonders if Castiel himself even knows about the room at the end of that hallway.

He packs his satchel mindlessly, throwing in a few thick skirts and canvas blouses, a tunic and some robes.  He packs his slippers and knots his boots on his feet now, for good measure, and is pleased to have finished packing and made it out the door without running into Hannah again.  In the yard walking towards the stables he spots his husband, sparring in the open field with one of the castle’s soldiers. His chest is bare, back slick with sweat and damp hair curling on his forehead as the afternoon sun beats down on the pair. From the distance Dean can't see, but he is sure his husband’s brow is furrowed with concentration and he swings his fencing pole, knocking out opponent’s legs and following up with a jab to the chest once the soldier hits the floor. He helps him up afterwards, their hands clasping each other’s wrists in a friendly handshake, and that is when Dean turns away. He hastens down to the stables, unwanting of the attention Castiel would surely dote upon him if he were spotted.

Gabriel is napping in the carriage when Dean arrives, his head propped against Bartholomew’s broad shoulder and drooling sloppily over his tunic.  There are hickeys lining Gabriel’s collar bone just below his neckline, only visible now because of the odd angle he’s positioned his head at.  Dean can’t help himself and he huffs a laugh at his brother-in-law, letting Inias take his bag to store in the back of the caravan before hopping into the seat beside Dean and smiling politely at him.

“How are you faring today, my Queen?  You look like you’ve lost some color,” he observes with a concerned expression on his face. Dean’s mind immediately conjures up images of the grimoires and spell books stored in that hidden room at the top of the East Tower, and now he feels even sicker.  He shrugs and waves Inias’s concerns away.

“It’s just the chilly weather.  I think I’m still adjusting to the cooler temperatures here in Eden,” he peeks out the window as the carriage begins to move, the sound of the horse’s feet clopping against the ground and the wheels of the carriage dragging through the dirt distracting him.  Inias hums thoughtfully and nods.

“I think you will like Berea, Your Highness.  It is warmer down there, by the sea.  Isn’t Winchester Palace built right near the ocean?”

“Oh yes, it is.  My brothers and I would spend full days playing in the seas and sun bathing, as children.  We would collect shells and then skip them on the waves,” he smiles, relaxing at the thoughts of home and fond memories of his family.  Inias and Bartholomew both seem to relax as he does, and Dean realizes belatedly that he’d been stinking up the cabin of the carriage with his nervous scent.  Now the acidic scent of lemons and ethyl loses strength, though still present, and is replaced by the sweet smell of roses and pine.  Dean blushes because these strange Alphas are so attuned to his scents, ducking his head and looking out the window again.  Rolling hills and cornfields pass them by, and Dean takes a leaf out of Gabriel’s book and lets the gentle bumping of the carriage lull him to sleep.

They arrive in Berea within three days, the journey easy and speedy.  It’s dark outside when they arrive, and they are seen to a small, private palace where they will be sleeping during their stay in the city.  It’s dark and the air smells like salt water, faintly of fish and brine, but it’s pleasant and warm and Dean likes it.  He stretches his limbs as he exits the carriage, yawning, and Gabriel bounces out excitedly behind him.

“I bet there’s gonna be some real good looking Alphas in this batch of soldiers.  I am going to spend this weekend _bathing_ in sexy men and women who are desperate to show their Grand Prince what loyal subjects they are,” he grins, white teeth flashing in the dark.  Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes, taking his bag from Inias and jogging to keep up with his brother-in-law.  He nudges him in the shoulder with his elbow.

“Kali and your other handmaiden weren’t enough to satisfy you this afternoon?” he teases, quirking an eyebrow at Gabriel.  The smaller Omega shrugs.

“They’re not here with us, are they?  If they were, I wouldn’t need to go searching for anyone else,” he smirks and rubs his hands together as if he’s some sort of mad-scientist.  “Anyway, these newly-minted Gaurdsmen and women are always easy pickings.  Once they’ve moved to Eden and have been around for a while, they lose interest in us Royal Omegas.  Watch this.” he turns on his heel, sliding gracefully over to Inias and pressing himself close to the Alpha’s side.  He’s too far away now for Dean to hear what he says, but as he bats his lashes up at the Guardsman he’s pushed away.  Dean hears Inias snap something at Gabriel and roll his eyes before turning away.  Gabriel returns to Dean’s side laughing.

“Do you see what I told you?”

“Perhaps you simply aren’t as seductive as you believe yourself to be,” Dean snips, tossing a smirk over his shoulder to a flabbergasted-looking Gabriel.  The younger Omega scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, stomping his foot on the ground.  Dean keeps walking.

“You brat!” he growls, throwing his arms up into the air.  Dean laughs to himself as he continues to walk, away from Gabriel and towards the palace.  He's hungry, and he’s sure the servants have prepared something tasty for them inside.  “You’ll see, tomorrow.  I’ll be bathing myself in hedonism while you sit in your room and _read_.  Or whatever the hell else you and my prude brother do in your free time.”

This makes Dean laugh again, and he actually does turn around to wait for Gabriel to catch up, but only because he wants some company headed into the dining hall.  He finally catches up to him after half a minute, and they bicker playfully as they head through the foyer of the palace.  The building is larger on the inside than the exterior would suggest, great drapes hanging from the walls depicting the county seal.  This one is of a dark brown eagle with a silver fish writhing in its beak, wings spread wide against the blue foreground.  It differs slightly from the Royal Seal of Eden, but that is because this region is governed by the Lady Hester and her brother, Lord Balthazar.

Lady Hester greets them as they enter the foyer, her own handmaidens hovering about anxiously as the Queen and the Prince enter their palace.  They bow deeply when Dean walks up, and he smiles kindly and nods at them in greeting.  He offers his own short bow to Hester, kissing her knuckles and offering her a polite smile.

“Thank you for your hospitality in letting us stay in your home for these few days, My Lady,” he says, then takes a step away from her and adjusts his skirt.  It’s a deep blue color, fitted with bouncy ruffles of pale blue and silver along the edges and the hem, and shorter than the garments he would regularly wear in Eden.  It reaches only just below his knees, but considering he was traveling Dean hadn’t wanted to wear anything that would drag on the ground.

“It will be our pleasure Your Highness, I’m sure,” she responds with a flourish, gesturing towards her handmaidens only a moment later.  “My hand ladies Anna and Adina will see to your needs this weekend.  My brother Balthazar is terribly sorry he couldn’t be here to greet you all… The hour is late, and he is training with the guard early tomorrow morning.  He is excited to have you here as well, though,” she smiles at Dean, then glances past him and catches eyes with Gabriel.  She smiles sweetly at him, then turns away and waves her hand in a beckoning motion.

“I am sure you two and also your men are famished.  I’ve had the cooks prepare some light foods for your arrival.  There is fresh fish, caught today.  But we also have chicken, if you’d prefer.” She looks nervous, as if her guests will reject what she’s offered as inadequate for their Royal Bellies, but Dean and Gabriel are quick to offer thanks for the hospitality.  They are led into the kitchens and seated by the stove, where they are given the chance to warm up as they enjoy their late-night meals.  Dean listens quietly as Gabriel and Hester chatter away about the plans for tomorrow, the festivities being held in the town to celebrate the knighting ceremonies. Bartholomew is the one to escort Dean and Gabriel to their chambers, a shared room with a curtain drawn down the middle to give privacy and create the illusion of two bedrooms.  It's still a sizable space, just a little larger than Gabriel’s bedroom in the East Tower, and just a little smaller than Dean and Castiel’s in the main palace back at Eden.  Their belongings have already been piled on their beds, respectively, and Dean goes to look out the window at the night sky as Gabriel flops down on his mattress and begins to hum a quiet song to himself.

“You barely touched your food tonight,” Gabriel says after a few silent minutes pass between them, propping himself up on his haunches, looking expectantly at his brother-in-law. Dean spares him a cursory glance, then turns back to the dark window and shrugs. The motion makes his cloak sweep the dusty floor.

“I wasn't very hungry. The food was well prepared, though,” he responds thoughtlessly, mind drifting as he follows the clouds through the dark sky. He can see the ocean from this window, waves dancing in the far distance and water shining like black opals in the moonlight. His fingers tighten on the protective metal grate which has been placed over the window, knuckles paling as he tightens his grasp. He can scent Gabriel’s confusion and distress in the air, but he pretends not to notice it and turns away, unfastening his cloak and preparing his night clothes.

“I can help you with that,” Gabriel offers. Dean stills, waiting for Gabriel, though he does not respond. Gabriel slides off his bed and pads towards Dean, gently removing his cloak from his shoulders and lying it over the chest by the foot of the bed. Dean feels his fingers skirt over his skin, down his sides as he works to unfasten the buttons along the side of his shirt.  “You smell scared,” Gabriel says, hand resting on his hip, fingers toying with the ruffled hem of his skirt. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I'm not scared,” Dean snaps, stepping away from Gabriel, and he finishes shimmying out of his skirt on his own, tossing it to the floor and walking naked to the side of his bed to pick up his nightgown. “Not of you, anyway. I'm nearly double your size. I could kill you just by sitting on you.”

“Well then,” Gabriel ignores Dean’s sorry attempt for humor, raising an eyebrow at his brother-in-law. “What are you scared of? You've barely spoken all night, and the whole ride down here the carriage wreaked with your anxious-scent. Inias told me you were feeling homesick, and I guessed you must have been having a night-terror, but it's more than that.” He frowns, and Dean looks away. “De,” he starts, and Dean’s heart aches suddenly. He wishes his brother were with him. Sammy would know what to think; what to do. He'd be full of answers to all the terrible questions bouncing around Dean’s head right now. “Tell me what's wrong.”

“You'll think I'm silly,” Dean huffs as he picks up his night gown, pulling it over his head and hiding his face beneath the thin fabric. “Your brother doesn't believe in ghosts and magic, so neither will you.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, his arms crossing over his chest. “Castiel doesn't believe in magic? He's seen sorcery performed before his very own eyes. He should believe in magic, if he doesn't. Being ignorant to those kinds of things will cause you trouble.”

There is a pregnant pause as Dean processes Gabriel’s words.  “So,” he slips the rest of the garment over his head, letting the light, sheer material fall loosely over his body,  “has he ever practiced magics, then?” Dean is trying for a casual tone, but there is a strain on his voice and a crease in his brow which indicates just how upset he is to be asking these questions.  

“Castiel?” Gabriel laughs, nose crinkling at the notion. “Poor boy can't even follow a dinner recipe, and you think he'd be good at spellwork?” He snorts, giggling, but when he makes eye contact with Dean he falters. Dean is looking at him very seriously, propped up against his pillows and frowning solemnly.  He scrambles to sit down beside his brother-in-law, wringing his hands in his lap.  The color has drained from his face as if he’s just seen a terrible ghost.  “You're serious, Dean?  You think Castiel is practicing magics?”

“Yes. No.  I mean, no, I have no reason to think so. But, you see…” he trails off, biting his lips, and suddenly he wishes he hadn't brought it up. He realizes those spell books could belong to anyone, even Gabriel himself, and he feels scared. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when suddenly he feels a weight in his shoulder, Gabriel’s warm hand resting on his skin.  

“What did you find? What did you see?” He whispers, but the mindful tone of his voice tells Dean that he already knows. Dean trembles, not speaking, and Gabriel frowns. “Castiel detests sorcery. He knows the price you pay to dabble with that kind of power, has seen the blackness it spreads through people’s souls. He wouldn't touch a spell book if it meant his life. Whatever you saw… it has nothing to do with your husband.”

“Castiel told me to go search the castle for secret rooms.  I think he never expected me to go looking, and really I wasn’t… But what I stumbled upon in the East Tower was disturbing, Gabriel.  The entire room was… it was filled with grimoires and theodolites and all sorts of other _things_ I can’t even bring myself to name.  Simply having those books near draws evil spirits around, and there were hundreds there.  Did you… did you know about this?”

Gabriel looks down at the mattress guiltily, then rakes his hair back with his fingers and lets free a labored sigh.  “Dean… The room you found was never meant to be there in the first place.  Michael,” he says his name gravely, lowering his voice as if there could be somebody listening despite himself and Dean being alone in the room, “had it built when he ascended the throne, as his private study.  Nobody ever set foot in there until after Michael died, and by then… Well, I thought Castiel had it sealed off more than a year ago.  Quite honestly, I share the same fears as you do, and I begged Castiel to have the room burned, to purge the castle of the dark _evil_ Michael left behind in that room.  But Hannah would hear none of it; she said it was bad enough Michael had to die, and wouldn’t hear of forsaking him in that way.  He was still our brother after all, though he was nothing like the brother I once knew, in the end.”

Dean frowns.  “How was he like, in the end?”

A flash of pain crosses Gabriel’s face, but then it’s gone and replaced by something more solemn, if still grim.  He drags his fingers through his hair and shakes his head.  “Michael changed after he became King.  He became obsessed with himself, and with his power.  All he cared for was making the kingdom larger, conquering more land that he could proclaim himself King of.  He was greedy; unrighteous.  He became obsessed with youth.  He took the Duchess Lilith for his wife, nearly twenty years his junior, and in his vows he promised they would be together forever.  We never thought… or at least, _I_ never thought he was speaking literally when he said that.  He was obsessed with immortality.  

“But Castiel had his suspicions, and one day a servant discovered some nasty spellbooks in Lilith’s bed chamber.  Castiel confronted Michael, and they dueled.”

There is a glassy look in Gabriel’s eyes, like he’s recalling a nightmare and isn’t quite sure if it truly happened or not.  “Near the end, Michael was overtaken by the darkness inside his soul.  His eyes glowed like flames and his skin turned black, like he was burning up from the inside and his flesh was covered in the soot of the fire.  Castiel...” Gabriel swallows, closing his eyes.  It’s only at this point that Dean realizes his brother-in-law has been crying, wet tears staining his dainty cheeks.  “Castiel slayed him.  It was his only choice.  Michael would have killed him and then killed the rest of us in pursuit of forever-youth. But I never saw--” Gabriel bites his tongue, placing his palms against his cheeks and obscuring his hazel eyes from Dean’s sight.  His voice is barely more than a shaky whisper when he speaks.  “I never saw such a look of _betrayal_ , as the expression on Michael’s face as Castiel drove that dagger into his chest.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat as he lets the meaning of Gabriel’s words sink in.  He could never, in a million years, imagine killing his own brother.  Even if Sam or Adam were to turn evil, Dean isn’t sure he could bring himself to slay either of them.  He reaches out, circling his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders and drawing his fellow Omega into a tight embrace.  He noses along his neck, scenting the pain and distress there, and tries to think of some words he can say to ease Gabriel back to his usual jovial self.

“I’m sorry you lost your brother in that way.  I can’t even imagine the pain of watching my brother die before me, let alone at the hands of another sibling.”

Gabriel hiccups, shaking his head against Dean’s chest.  “It wasn’t Castiel’s fault.  Castiel did not kill my brother.” He pauses, sniffles indignantly, and then continues on in an unwavering voice.  “Michael was dead long before Castiel drove that dagger through his heart.  The _thing_ he had become was evil, and needed to be destroyed.  Castiel was stronger than any of us could have been, that day.  And I thank God for that, and I admire that strength, because it saved our kingdom.”

They fall asleep there, with Dean’s arms wrapped around Gabriel and Gabriel’s tears drying on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean dreams of his own brother, and of Castiel, and of the Duchess in the portrait hung in that hallway.  In his dream he asks her what ever became of her after Michael died, but when she opens her mouth to reply, flies and maggots pour from her lips and onto the floor, crawling up Dean’s body.  He jumps back to shield his face from the swarm of insects, and the dream shifts, as dreams do, and then Dean is riding Chevrolet through a field of chicories and cornflowers with Castiel by his side.  Castiel smiles happily and takes his hand, kisses his knuckles and promises kindly to love Dean forever.  When he wakes Dean doesn’t remember his dream, only knows it was equally as disturbing as it was wonderful.

Anna and Adina are waiting by the bedroom door with a jug of water and fresh bedpans in the morning, and Gabriel lets them in with a graceful flourish, kissing each of the handmaidens’ hands in turn and winking when he sees them blush.  Dean rolls his eyes and turns away modestly as he strips out of his bed clothes.  Anna rushes to his side to see him dressed and made up properly, and Adina busies herself with tending to Gabriel.  He puts on a great show of stripping his clothes off, and when Dean is finished dressing and turns to catch Gabriel sneaking kisses with the girl, he knows his friend has recovered from their emotional outpouring the night before.  Gabriel flashes him a sly wink on their way out of the door, gesturing lewdly towards Adina’s backside.  Dean scowls and shakes his head, but then he smirks and knocks his brother-in-law’s shoulder playfully.  

What can he say? the brat has grown on him.

The pantry is busy with servants this early in the morning, and there is no room for them to eat in the private kitchen where they dined last night.  Adina leads them past the bustling kitchen, Anna falling behind to assist the other servants with preparations for breakfast.  Dean bids her a quiet farewell and thanks her for her service before he and Gabriel are taken into a cavernous dining hall.  There is a beautiful oak table in the center of the room, large enough to seat at least twenty guests comfortably, but not so large to take up the entire room.  The table is polished, decorated with colorful wildflowers and drooping wax candles.  The candles are not lit at the moment, natural light flooding the huge room from big bay windows that sit high in the stone walls.

Dean blinks through the bright rays of sun and smiles down the table, where Lady Hester stands and curtsies to him and Gabriel.  Beside her, a tall Alpha rises from his seat gracefully, unrushed as he pushes his seat away from the table and straightens himself out, then bows respectfully to the princes.  Dean is instantly put off by the cavalier expression on the man’s face and self-satisfied smirk on his lips, but he tamps it down and forces himself to smile politely at the Alpha.

“Good morning, Princes Dean and Gabriel.  I trust you slept well,” he starts, enunciating every word sauvely.  “So sorry I couldn’t greet you at your arrival last night.  Lord Balthazar,” he steps towards Dean, offering a much deeper bow to the Queen than he had at first.  Dean holds his hand out, accepting a courteous kiss from the Lord.  Gabriel nearly knocks him out of the way offering his own hand, and he swears he can see his fellow Omega _blush_ when Baltazar’s lips press to his knuckles.  He barely suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, checking Gabriel’s hip and pushing him back towards his seat.  

“There is no need for any apology, my Lord.  Your sister informed us you had a strenuous training session, and were in need of some rest,” he pauses and then adds playfully, “I hope your soldiers are prepared with a nice show for us this afternoon.”

Balthazar chuckles, pompous smirk turning up the corners of his lips once more. “Of course, Your Highness.  Our training sessions have been unusually intense lately, so you’ll excuse if I appear tired today.  I mean no disrespect should I yawn.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows crease, and he leans forward curiously.  “Unusually intense?  Why practice them so hard?  We are in a time of peace.”

Balthazar refuses to meet Gabriel’s eyes, instead reaching out and plucking a hankerchief off the table.  he folds it in half and tucks the short end into his collar, flattening the longer piece down against his bosom.  “There have been whispers of war coming from the outskirts of our territory.  I don’t know the source, but there’s too many rumors to ignore.”  He frowns, looking up and letting his gaze flicker between Dean and Gabriel.  “Mars is in retrograde this Spring.  I’m fearful for my men, and so I am preparing them for the worst.  This is one fire I think I am not willing to play with.”

Dean swallows nervously and glances over at Gabriel, who is staring thoughtfully at Lord Balthazar.  Neither of them move for some time, until Hester clears her throat and then Balthazar smiles pleasantly, breaking the awkward silence and the tension at the table.  “Anyway... The men have been practicing their Cadence for weeks, just for you.  I can say with confidence that you will enjoy it very much.”

“I think I will be the judge of that, Lord Balthazar,” Dean banters lightly.  Gabriel clears his throat loudly beside them, a cross look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.  His cheeks are red, and Dean wonders what could possibly have him so flustered.

“Are we going to eat anytime soon?” he snaps, glaring at Dean and then at Balthazar.  The Alpha actually seems to wilt a little under the angry glower, but Dean is unaffected.  He raises a stoic brow at his brother-in-law, who continues to pout grumpily.  “What, Dean?  I’m hungry, and the smell from the kitchen is driving me insane.  S’not fair to me to starve just because you’re too busy flirting with Prince Charming here.”

Dean scoffs, affronted, but before he can snap back at Gabriel, Balthazar claps his hands together and calls the servants into the room.  “I’m so sorry, Prince Gabriel.  We would hate to keep Your Royal Highness waiting when he’s hungry,” a prickly smile turns up the corners of his lips, and he gives Gabriel’s shoulder a momentary squeeze as he breezes past the prince and towards the kitchens.  The Omega’s face goes red as a beet and he clenches his fists at his sides; Dean thinks he may not mind this smug Alpha after all, if he can put Gabriel in check simply with a few derisive words and a curt smile.

Breakfast is served momentarily, palace servants laying out a generous spread of bread, butter, fresh eggs and smoked pork for everyone to share.  After all of the food is laid out the servants join them, and Hester explains to Dean and Gabriel that because the palace is so small, the servants usually eat with them in the morning.  She even offers to send them away, should the Princes only request it, but Dean assures her that he and Gabriel are perfectly comfortable eating with the castle workers.  Gabriel is still pouting in his seat, decidedly giving everyone at the table a silent treatment.  Dean catches him looking over at Lord Balthazar a few times, when he thinks nobody is watching, and he also spots Balthazar doing the same.  He leans over to whisper in Gabriel’s ear.

“Every time you look away, Lord Balthazar stares at you with the most depraved expression on his face. You’re being such a brat, I think he might want to give you a spanking,” he mutters.  Gabriel jabs him forcefully in the stomach, and Dean wheezes, doubling over his breakfast and letting out a pitiful whine.  Bartholomew and Inias both move to get up, but Dean waves them off, shrugging the attack off and forcing himself to sit up straight again.  He catches Gabriel’s eyes and purses his lips, winking at his friend.  Gabriel pushes away from the table and excuses himself soundly, leaving Dean to double over his breakfast again, only this time with laughter rather than pain.

They make their way outside after breakfast, and Dean and Gabriel are shown a tour of the castle grounds by Lady Hester as Balthazar goes to tend to the soldiers and prepare them for their initiation ceremony.  Gabriel is pouting, kicking stones and barely looking at Dean all throughout their trek across the grounds, though he does perk up when Hester asks them if they would like to go pet the animals in the stable.  They follow her there, and Gabriel and Dean both happily feed the chickens and goats as Hester tells them all about the region’s annual horse racing and hurdling competition.

“You are both invited, of course, and King Milton if he wishes to attend.  It is a shame he couldn’t be here this week.  But still!  It’s quite the show when we host this big hurdling competition.  Balthazar has been the reigning champion for four years, now.”

Gabriel pauses with his hand stuck in a bag of chicken feed, eyes lighting up at the mention of the young Lord.  Hester looks quite pleased with herself as he inquires, “Wait, Balthazar is a jockey?  Isn’t he a bit too… bulky for that?”

She chuckles.  “You would think.  But he is very skilled on the back of a horse,” as she speaks, Gabriel’s cheeks begin to turn red, and Dean has to refrain from laughing out loud, “Our father was always very insistent that horse riding be a skill all of his children acquired.  Balthazar took to it like bark on a tree.  I’m sure he will be happy to provide a demonstration for you, if you were to ask him.”

Gabriel balks, cheeks now bright red as he hastily turns his attention back to the chickens.  “I don’t know.”

“I would be glad to take up audience, if Balthazar wishes to demonstrate his riding skills.” Dean says, smirking when he sees Gabriel glaring at him from the corner of his eyes.  The other Omega is barely restraining a growl as he responds.

“I think you’ll be quite busy, what with the induction of the Guard and all the paperwork it accompanies.” He snaps.  Dean lifts an eyebrow, glancing over at Hester to gauge her reaction to this outburst, then looking back at Gabriel bemusedly.

“Stop endylling, Gabriel. If I don’t go, who is going to watch Lord Balthazar practice his hurdles?”

Gabriel’s nostrils flare, and he narrows his eyes in Dean’s direction.  “ _I_ will watch him practice, thank you very much.  In fact, I am going to go ask him right now.”  With a flourish he turns, tossing a handful of seed onto the ground and stomping off down the path from whence they came.  Some fat chickens waddle over to peck and the grains he left behind, and their happy clucking covers up the sound of Dean’s and Hester’s giggles of triumph as they watch Gabriel go.  Dean shakes his head.

“Do you think he even realizes?”

“I think,” Hester begins, “that he’s so smitten already, he doesn’t even realize how foolish he’s acting.”

“Hmm,” Dean taps his chin thoughtfully, tossing a handful of grains to the chickens mindlessly.  They gobble them up.  “And what of Balthazar?”

Hester grins.  “Oh, Your Highness, don’t worry.  You should have heard him talking after breakfast today; I don’t think a single sentence he spoke didn’t have the word ‘Gabriel’ in it.  They’ll be setting a wedding date by the week’s end.  Trust me.”

The induction ceremony itself is long and boring, a tedious affair which takes up most of the afternoon.  The soon-to-be soldiers march out together, forming a long line.  They put on a great color guard show, and stand at attention for Balthazar as he gives a prideful speech about the great progress they have all made over the past year of training.  When Dean rises to speak, every soldier sinks to one knee, and it startles Dean even though he’s become fairly accustomed to this kind of servility since he was coronated as Queen of Eden.

It’s just the sheer number of men and women who are bowed before him that awes him right now, and the sight steals his breath for a few moments.  This is his kingdom, he realizes.  These are people who serve  and protect him; these are the people he serves and protects.

There is a grand feast held after the ceremony has ended, and hungry men and women crowd around several huge tables to dine on fresh bread and decadent meats and wine.  As he’s taking his seat beside Hester, she jabs him in the elbow and points to the end of the table, where Balthazar and Gabriel are sitting practically on top of each other and are engaged in some heated conversation.  Dean snickers and shakes his head, grinning at Hester as he sits back in his seat.  She continues to watch her brother and the Prince interact, eyebrows scrunched up thoughtfully.

“You know, it actually looks like they’re fighting.”

Dean snorts.  “Yeah, Gabriel has that riling affect on people.  I’m sure they’ll be fine, as long as they don’t start going for each other’s throats.”

Hester coughs.  “Or mouths.”

Dean frowns, buttering a piece of bread and biting off a large chunk.  With his mouth full he hums thoughtfully, smacking his lips.  “Well, if they were really upset with each other I don’t think they would attack each other on the _mouth_ necessarily, but…”

“No, Dean, I mean… Just, just _look_.”  She taps the side of Dean’s head, nudging him to look back towards the end of the table.  Balthazar has practically pinned Gabriel against the table and is enthusiastically kissing his lips. Gabriel is returning the advance just as enthusiastically, it seems, if the way he’s pulling at Balthazar's blonde curls and trying to crawl into his lap is any indication.

“Holy…”

Gabriel growls against Balthazar’s mouth and pushes him back in his chair, shiny plates and utensils clattering as his back jostles the table and he plants himself in the Alpha’s lap.  Balthazar snarls back at him, teeth gnashing, and Dean is pretty sure he sees blood dripping from Gabriel’s lips as they kiss.  Even so he doesn’t seem deterred; perhaps even more aroused if the sweet, distinctly-Omega scent filling the air is any indication.  Balthazar’s arms curl around Gabriel’s slender waist, fingers digging roughly into the flesh of his thighs and hiking his skirt up.  He pushes his chair out from the table abruptly, his own dish falling to the floor and shattering in his haste to get up from the table.

“Excuse us,” Balthazar announces, holding onto Gabriel’s body tightly as the Omega curls around him, legs hooking around his waist, arms curled around his neck.  Dean can hear him purring from here and it’s making him slightly nauseous.  “We’ll take our leave now.  I apologize for the mess.”

Dean is too shocked to even think of a response, and Hester coughs, mumbling, “That’s alright.”  By the time she’s finished the short sentence Balthazar and Gabriel are out of the room.  Dean huffs out an astounded laugh, scratching at the back of his neck and shaking his head.

“That’s…,” he clears his throat.  “Wow.  Does he do that often?”

Hester laughs, moving some vegetables around on her plate with her fork.  “My brother’s sex life is none of my business to get involved in,” she says with a blush.  “But at the dinner table?  No, I can’t say he ever has before.”

“Gabriel, neither,” Dean says, then huffs and adds, “at the table, at least.  Seems a little unsanitary, doesn’t it?” he says with a frown.  Hester chuckles.

“I suppose that’s why Bal apologized for the mess,” she spears a chunk of meat onto her fork and snickers as she chews.  Dean grins at her, amused, and finishes off his slice of buttered bread with a chomp.  He rubs at his belly, full and sated, and smiles at his hostess.

“Well, they’re obviously getting up to no good,” he says and pushes his plate away to indicate how he’s full. “Can I challenge you to a game of chess to pass the time?”

“I’d be delighted.  I’ll call for some wine,” she pushes out her own chair and holds a hand out to Dean, who slips his arm around her elbow and follows her from the room.  Dean figures it’s going to be late morning before he sees Gabriel again, so he’s prepared to spend most of the night drinking and enjoying himself.  If Gabriel is allowed to, after all, he thinks he’s entitled.  
  


Dean is packing his belongings in the morning, still rubbing sleep from his eyes and nursing a mild hangover with a tall glass of red cabbage juice-- a most unpleasant yet surprisingly effective hangover cure-- when Gabriel returns to their shared quarters in the guest chamber.  He stinks like sex even though his hair is obviously damp from a bath, and his entire neck is covered in purple and red love bites.  And maybe…

“By God’s bones… What the fuck did you _do_ last night?” He screams, rushing over to his brother-in-law and grabbing his face.  Gabriel goes slack in Dean’s arms to allow the inspection, and Dean forcefully turns Gabriel’s head to the side to inspect the big, fresh mating bite on the side of Gabriel’s neck.  A growl rumbles low in Dean’s throat, but when he looks at Gabriel’s face he sees the blush and the sheepish smile on his face, the growl fades away.  Gabriel is happy about this mating; it wasn’t a forced claim.  Dean gives him a puzzled look, narrowing his eyes in confusion.  When Gabriel’s smile doesn’t falter, but rather grows, Dean finds himself beginning to smile as well.  So Gabriel finally found his mate.  Dean huffs out a laugh and takes a step back, grin splitting his face.

“Have fun last night?” He asks.  Gabriel laughs, throwing himself back onto the nearest mattress and lying spread eagled, a beautiful grin stretching his lips.

“Yes, Dean.  God, it was amazing,” he sighs, looking up at his brother-in-law with glazed eyes.  “ _He is_ amazing.  I have to get back to him soon, he-- his rut hit after we mated.”  Gabriel says, and by God he _blushes_.  Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabriel blush when he’s talking about sex.  He sits up and scratches at his neck, where his hickeys and his fresh mating bite are still healing.  “But I wanted to let you know that I’ll be staying here while you go back to Eden.  At least another week.”

Dean’s eyes widen and he crosses his arms over his chest.  “Oh.  And you’re going to leave me to be the one to explain this to Castiel?” he asks.  Gabriel purses his lips.

“Well, I’d appreciate if you could butter him up for me…,” Gabriel starts, standing up and reaching into his back pocket.  He pulls a sheet of parchment from the pocket of his skirt; the same one he was wearing last night, but now torn and showing evidence of being torn from his waist the night before.  Now Dean is blushing at the thought of what must have happened with his brother-in-law last night, while he was playing Chess.  “My brother has a soft spot for you.  So maybe put in a good word or two before you give him this?”

Dean lifts an eyebrow as he takes the letter form Gabriel’s hands, glancing down at it and frowning.  “Dude,” he snorts.  “This is a request for a marriage contract.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel smiles again, stretching, popping his shoulders and cracking his back.

“It’s signed by you,” Dean continues.  Gabriel shrugs.

“Yeah?”

“You’re an _Omega_.  The court is not going to recognize this as valid.” He stuffs the letter into his own pocket, turning back to the bed and resuming to pack his satchel.  He only brought along a few outfits, seeing as they only planned to stay here for a week at the most, so it doesn’t take him long at all to finish packing.

“The court doesn’t matter right now.  Castiel will recognize a letter written by me, signed by me, and he will know not to worry.  Plus you’ll be there to comfort him,” he reaches out and nudges Dean’s shoulder.  The Omega rolls his eyes fondly and shakes his head.  “Listen, Dean, all those sexist formalities will come later.  Right now I just need my brother to know that I’ve met my mate, I’m staying here with him and that’s my own decision.”

Dean nods.  “Okay.  You’re right,” he says, then smiles and laughs.  He reaches out, trailing light fingers around the edges of the fresh mark on Gabriel’s neck.  His brother-in-law shivers and Dean shakes his head.  “Dude, _of course_ you would wind up with the biggest mating bite in the history of mating.”

“It is pretty big, huh?” Gabriel asks, rubbing at his neck and stepping away from Dean to go look in the vanity on the wall.  He beams with pride as he examines his own mating mark, and Dean has to resist the urge to roll his eyes again at his brother-in-law.

His own hand creeps up, rubbing subconsciously at his own mating mark.  It’s modest, just as Castiel is modest, and Dean is glad for that.  At the time of their mating… he wasn’t happy like Gabriel is now.  A large mark would have put him in distress; made him feel even more like an owned person than the marriage process did on its own.  But now, after knowing Castiel for months and learning that he is a good man, a worthy mate… he can’t help but envy Gabriel.  At least just a little bit.  If he and Castiel had met under pleasant circumstances, had consummated their relationship by choice rather than under the pressure of the Royal Court…

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Gabriel walks back to him, poking Dean’s cheek.  He pinches the side of Dean’s lip and wiggles, pulling at his frown.  “You only get that look when you’re thinking about Cassie.  What’s the matter?”

 _I wish I had met Castiel the same way you met your mate._  “Just thinking about… what might happen if Castiel had a marriage contract drawn up for you already.  With another Alpha.”  Dean says, looking up at Gabriel worriedly.  “If he promised you away already--”

Gabriel laughs loudly, cutting off Dean’s sentence and shaking his head.  “Are you kidding me?  Castiel, promise _me_ away?  To some other Alpha?  I think not.”  There’s a defiant glare in his eye even though he’s smiling.  “First off, Castiel knows that any Alpha he tried to sell me off to, I’d be unfaithful to him on principal.”  Gabriel licks his lips.  “Plus, arranged marriages aren’t Castiel’s favorite thing.  No offense.”

Dean snorts.  “None taken.  I’m not much of a fan, myself.”

Gabriel bites his lip, looking troubled, but its only fleeting and then he’s smiling again.  He glances back at the door, twitching a little bit.  “Hey, Dean, I really gotta get back to him.  Else I think he’ll track me down and knot me wherever he finds me, and I kinda don’t want you to see that.”

Dean chuckles.  “Believe me, I don’t want to see that either,” he reaches out, pulling Gabriel in and kissing him chastely on the cheek.  “God bless you, brother.”

Gabriel smiles and clasps Dean’s hands in his own, nodding.  “Thank you.  Give that note to Castiel!” he reminds, and then he sweeps out of the room again and takes fast strides down the hallway, back towards Balthazar’s room.  Eager to return home to his mate.

Dean finds that he, too, is over eager to return home to his own mate.  He slings his satchel over his shoulder and heads out the door after Gabriel, heading down to the dining hall to enjoy breakfast with Hester and bid farewells.  It’s been a nice stay at Berea, but it’s time to go home now.

Bartholomew is insistent that he stay in Berea as Gabriel’s guard, leaving Dean and Inias to make the journey back to Eden on their own.  Dean suspects that Gabriel is going to throw a fit when he realizes that Bartholomew stayed behind; his brother-in-law has always had a complex about the Royal Guard being too nosy for their own good and hovering about like vultures on a summer’s day.  However, Dean abides that he does feel more comfortable knowing one of their own is staying close to Gabriel right now.  Freshly mated Omegas can often be susceptible to exploitation by Alphas, and though Balthazar is a trusted noble ally of Castiel’s it’s still good to have Bartholomew there watching Gabriel’s back.  

Plus, it’s going to make it easier for Dean to calm Castiel down and explain the situation if his Alpha knows that one of his guardsmen has hung back to look after his brother.  The last thing any of them need is for Castiel to mount a quest after Berea because he’s pissed off his brother went and got mated without any warning.

Dean knows that his husband is not a possessive, controlling Alpha, though.  He would never start a war just because his brother didn’t ask his permission before mating with an Alpha.  If he’s angry at all, it will be out of concern for his brother’s safety and not for his own gain.  Gabriel was right when he said that Castiel would never force him into an arranged marriage; it just wasn’t in his personality to be a despot like that.   _Castiel  is nothing like John Winchester_ , Dean reminds himself, staring out the carriage window as they roll by the rocky sea-cliffs and glistening shores of Berea.  As he gazes at the beautiful landscape he cannot help but think back on Balthazar’s words from breakfast the other morning: there are whispers of war coming to Eden.  The stars and planets have aligned to confirm it, and Dean can’t stop thinking about that Grimoire he found in the East Wing of the castle.  His fingertips tingle as he remembers running his fingers over its textured pages, the rough scratch of old parchment inscribed with evil words against his fingertips.  He shivers and closes his eyes, bowing his chin and hoping he might be able to get some rest on this long ride home.

They arrive in Eden three days later.  Dean is sick of the carriage by that time, as is Inias, and he practically sprints up to the castle gates upon their return home.  Hannah is waiting in the grand entrance, primly dressed and made up for the day, and she greets Dean with a kiss on the cheek and a tight smile for her brother-in-law on his return home.  She frowns when she notices the distinct lack of her own brother, though, and turns a questioning gaze onto Dean.

“Where is Gabe?”

Dean fidgets.  He doesn't know why Hannah always makes him so nervous.  “He stayed in Berea.  He’s met his mate,” Dean announces, a small smile curving his lips.  Hannah’s eyes widen in a shocked expression, and when Dean removes Gabriel’s letter from his pocket and holds it aloft she snatches it up, reading the note for herself.  She balks.

“He can’t be serious.  Castiel is going to be furious,” she mutters.  Dean reaches out and places his hands over Hannah’s, squeezing gently.

“Please allow me to inform him, Hannah.  Gabriel requested it be me who tells him,” Dean insists in a hushed tone.  Hannah narrows her eyes at him and yanks her hands away, fingers crumpling the note as she grips it so tightly.  

“Oh, why?  So you can seduce him with your quick tongue and devious tricks?  Gabriel knows better than this!  Since you came here you’ve been nothing but a rotten influence on him… Oh!  You wait until Castiel hears of this.  He’s going to have a cow!”

“Like you are right now?  I doubt that,” Dean snarks.  “Where is he anyway?  I’ve missed my husband these past two weeks and I want to see him.”

The upstairs door slams closed at that moment, and Dean and Hannah both look up to see Castiel descending the stairs in his riding pants and boots, a dark gray overcoat draped about his shoulders.  Despite how warm it was in Berea, with the late summer sunshine and the ocean breeze beating down on them every moment, it is still cold up here in the mountains of Eden.  Autumn has arrived early and the leaves are already changing color, some of the trees already bare.  Dean smiles brightly at the sight of his husband, rushing forward and meeting him halfway up the stairs in a warm embrace.

“You missed me?” Castiel asks, eyes twinkling with a combination of pride and joy.  Dean nods and leans forward to kiss the bolt of his jaw.  “I missed you too, my honey.”

“Castiel!” Hannah calls from the bottom of the stairs, frustrated.  Castiel releases Dean from his arms, keeping their fingers handbanded as he finishes his descent down the stairs and goes to stand in front of his sister.  He blinks in surprise when she shoves Gabriel’s note into his face, and he captures it between his fingers, frowning as he reads.  His jaw ticks as he reads his way through the entire note, turning to glance up at Dean before he looks down and reads the note again.  Without a word he hands it back to his sister, clucking softly and shaking his head.

“Good for Gabriel,” he says, smiling tightly, “We’ll send for him in a week’s time.  He can invite his fiance for a visit next month.” He says, then turns and heads swiftly back up the stairs.  Hannah stands, blinking in shock, and Dean doesn’t stick around to wait for her wrath before he rushes up the stairs after his husband.  He finds him sitting at his desk in his office, which is connected to their shared chambers, pouring over a map of some trade routes with a scowl on his face.  Dean knocks gently at the oak door, then steps into the office without waiting for reply.  He leans against the door, body flat, and stares at his husband with a frown as he tries to think of something to say.

“Bartholomew stayed behind with him.  To look after him.”

“Good,” Castiel says curtly.  Dean frowns, pushing off the door and walking towards Castiel’s desk.  He stands behind his chair, fingers kneading into the tense muscles of Castiel’s shoulders, front of his body pressed flush against his Alpha’s back.  Castiel sets the pen in his hand down and sighs at the gentle massage, tipping his head back and resting his cheek against Dean’s forearm.

“How I missed you, Dean,” he sighs, laying a gentle kiss to his Omega’s wrist and nosing at the scent glands there.  “You left without even saying goodbye.  I was downtrodden when I returned to the castle and you weren’t here.”

Dean frowns, remembering the day he’d left for Berea.  He hadn’t said goodbye to his mate, he was so worked up from what he’d seen in the East Wing of the castle, and that was wrong of him.  It wasn’t Castiel’s fault for what he’d found.  “I’m sorry.  I was in a rush to leave and I couldn’t find you.”

“Hmm,” Castiel tips his head to rest against Dean’s belly, eyes closed and mouth open.  “Apology accepted.  Will you make it up to me?”

Dean laughs with his whole body, leaning forward and locking his lips with Castiel.  They are dry and chapped, and move lazily against his own as he pushes his tongue into his mate’s mouth, claiming.  Castiel grunts and shoves his chair backward, throwing Dean off balance, but he’s quick to stand and catch Dean before he can even think of falling.  He smirks against his lips, nipping the soft flesh, and Dean laughs into his mouth as their teeth clack noisily and they come together again.

“Are you angry with Gabriel?” Dean asks as they break apart, his fingers dragging along Castiel’s bicep and teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of his neck.  Castiel sighs and tightens his arms around Dean’s hips, grumbling low in his chest at the pleasant feeling of his mate’s teeth on his skin.

“Gabriel is stubborn and willful.  I don’t doubt that his decision to mate with Lord Balthazar was entirely his own,” he answers, a small frown tugging at his lips as he carries on, “yet there are traditions meant to followed for these situations.  Royal Omegas are not supposed to go and mate themselves to just any Alpha they choose.  There’s a courting process that’s meant to be respected.”  Castiel sighs, shaking his head.  Dean continues to suck and kiss at his husband’s collar, listening intently as he explains his frustrations away.  “Yet Gabriel knows this, and he doesn’t care.  As I said, he is stubborn and willful. As for Lord Balthazar… he knows better as well. I don’t take kindly to his disrespecting me this way.”

“Hey,” Dean nudges Castiel’s hip and perks his head up, smiling against his lips.  “I’m stubborn and willful, too.  It doesn’t make you angry when I ignore the rules.”  He smirks and scratches his fingers down his chest, painting Castiel’s toned abdomen with red scratch marks through his thin dress shirt.  He laughs and gnashes his teeth as Dean, grabbing him around the waist and spinning them around, hoisting him up and setting him on his wooden desk.  Dean’s breath hitches, his skirt hiking up, and Castiel slips his hand between Dean’s legs and beneath his panties to grope his ass.

“That’s because you deserve a little autonomy after the cloying treatment you suffered in your childhood,” Castiel answers, eyes dark with lust as he slips two fingers between the cheeks of Dean’s ass, feeling how slick and open he is already.  He kisses Dean’s lips and the Omega pants into his mouth, squirming on his mate’s fingers.  “Gabriel’s trouble is that he’s never been told _no_ in his life,” Castiel growls.  “Our parents favored him, and even Michael couldn’t control him.  He views me as a pushover compared to our brother; he knows I’ll let him get away with anything.”  Castiel huffs, slipping a third finger into Dean’s ass and stretching him.  Dean lets out a muffled whine against Castiel’s throat, clenching his eyes shut and trying to quiet the sounds of ecstasy that wish to slip from his mouth.  The walls in this castle are paper thin, and if Hannah is still downstairs he doesn’t want her to hear what they are doing in Castiel’s office.  “So yes, I’m angry at Gabriel, but there's not much I can do about it anyway.  He’s Lord Balthazar’s problem, now.”

Dean sighs and pulls Castiel into a heated kiss, stroking his hands all over the Alpha’s cheeks and tangling his fingers into his hair.  “Your brother has more respect for you than you believe.  Trust me,” he says.  He drops back onto the desk so that he’s lying horizontally across its surface, his skirt completely hiked up now and his groin exposed.  Castiel’s fingers slip out from his hole and he moves to tug Dean’s white, lace-embroidered panties off.  Dean’s cock, swollen and flush and angry-red at the head, flops against his thigh and Castiel eyes it with a hungry expression.

“You’ve been talking about me with my brother, have you?” Castiel chuckles, pulling the panties off of Dean’s lithe legs and tossing it across the room.  It lands on a bookshelf somewhere on the other side of the office, but neither Dean nor Cas pay any mind as they come together in another kiss, Castiel’s body pressed flush against Dean’s and pinning him down to the dark mahogany table.  Dean smiles churlishly and wraps his arms around Castiel’s neck, humming softly as the Alpha ravages his neck with kisses and lovebites.

“Perhaps.  I promise all good things, my dear,” he whispers.  Castiel growls and nips at Dean’s left earlobe, eliciting a crude laugh from the Omega.  Dean begins to squirm, pressing his exposed groin up against Castiel’s trousered waist, where he can feel the Alpha’s swollen erection pressing.  He wants it so badly.  Dean feels the need clawing inside his belly, the want, and he knows that he’s in heat.  He pants into Castiel’s mouth and reaches for the belt of his trousers, tugging it loose and making fast work of his Alpha’s clothing.  Castiel helps, kicking his clothes away until his waist is bare and he can press their flush, naked bottom halves against one another.

“I want you so desperately,” Castiel groans, fingers pushing into Dean’s ass again, stretching his soaked rim and tugging at the sensitive flesh.  He rubs his wet fingers along the inside of Dean’s hole, searching out that place he knows will make his Omega keen and cry with pleasure.  His cock, heavy with blood and hard in his own hand, strains against his hip as he watches Dean thrash on the desk beneath him.  “You smell divine.  I love the scent of you,” he gasps.  He drops to his knees in front of Dean, first taking one of his bare feet into his palm and kissing each of his toes.  He presses kisses along the heel of his left foot and up his calf, nipping at his thighs and smirking when the Omega’s body trembles at the rough attention.  He noses along the inseam of his thigh, breath ghosting his wet hole, tongue darting out to taste the spicy, sweet wetness between Dean’s thighs.  The Omega whimpers and spreads his legs wider, canting his hips upward so that Castiel can gain closer access to his body.

“Knot me,” Dean orders.  Castiel moans and leans in, hands grasping at the soft flesh of Dean’s strong thighs, digging bruises into his muscle as he licks and licks at Dean’s wet, needy opening.  More slick drips from his hole, a never-ending supply, and Castiel thinks he could drown in it if he wasn’t careful.  It’s sweet like honeysuckle-nectar, a forbidden fruit, and Castiel moans just as loudly at the sweet taste of it as Dean does from the pleasure of Castiel licking it from him.  The Omega’s fingers tangle into Castiel’s messy hair, tugging and pulling, and when the Alpha pulls away their a sticky sheen of slick covering his lips and most of his chin.  He blinks dazedly up at Dean, licks his lips and stands over his Omega again in a dominant stance.

“Beautiful mate.  Mine,” He whispers, placing a firm hand over Dean’s soft, flat belly and lining his cock up to Dean’s ripe, open hole.  His cockhead pushes past the rim with an obscene pop, Dean’s slick coating it and easing the way, and then Dean lets out a wanton moan as castiel rocks forward and bottoms out inside of him.  Dean’s eyelids flutter closed, a soft moan escaping his lips, and he rocks his hips in time with Castiel’s purposeful thrusts.  “So wet.  So fertile, I can smell it,” he moans, leans down and presses sweet kisses to the side of Dean’s neck.

“Please,” he moans in Dean’s ear, hips rocking against Dean’s, their bellies trapping his hard and swollen cock between them.  “Please, Dean, let me…,” he gasps, hips stuttering, and Dean feels his Alpha’s knot begin to swell.  Dean’s arms lock around Castiel’s body, holding him close, wanting him closer.  Wanting him deeper.

“Anything, Cas.  I’ll give you anything,” he gasps, letting out a broken moan between gasps.  Castiel’s hands dig into his hips, leaving bruises, and he groans in his ear.

“Let me breed you, please, Dean.  Let me get you pregnant,” he begs, voice full of lust and eyes gleaming with maybe something more.  “I want you to be the mother of my children,” he whispers.  Dean moans, tipping his head back, the thought pleasing to his sex-addled brain.  He imagines himself round, heavy with Castiel’s pups.  The idea makes him slick, and his cock pulses, oozing cum untouched between their bellies.  He gasps and nods.

“Please,” he whines, undulating his hips and milking Castiel’s cock, drawing him in deeper.  He imagines he can feel Castiel’s cock all the way inside him, deep, deep, pressing against his cervix, filling him up… “I want to have your babies.  Please, Castiel!” He cries.  Castiel groans and bites into Dean’s shoulder, filling his cunt with cum, locking them together with his knot.  He collapses onto Dean with the full weight of his body after that, panting against his neck, tired from their activities.  Dean reaches up and cards his fingers through Castiel’s hair, sweeping his bangs to the side and pressing a gentle, sweaty kiss to his cheek.

“Take me to bed,” he says drowsily, his heat abated for now but without a doubt not sated completely.  There will be much more sex before his body will tire itself out.  Castiel’s arms are strong around his waist, carrying him from the office and into their bedroom next door, laying him out on the sheets like the precious cargo he is.  Castiel falls into bed right beside him, their bodies still locked by Castiel’s knot.  The Alpha strokes up and down Dean’s flank, pulling a light duvet over their bodies to shield them from the chilly air of their room.

“You’re in heat,” Castiel says, gently stroking his palm over Dean’s sweaty forehead, feeling a temperature rise from his flushed skin.  Dean’s eyelids flutter and he nods, lips quirking up a bit.

“Guess my body missed you as much as I did,” he chuckles, then reaches out and takes Castiel’s hands in his own.  He sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head against a pillow.  “I really am sorry I left without saying goodbye.  I missed you dearly while we were apart.”

Castiel’s lips quirk up.  “So you’ve said.  Rest, honey,” he says, shushing Dean and stroking his fingers through his hair.  It’s growing long; he must get it cut soon.  Dean likes to keep his hair short, he’s said.  

“I think I envy Gabriel,” Dean says, blinking owlishly at Castiel.  The Alpha frowns and continues to stroke his knuckles over Dean’s cheek.

“How so?”

“The way he and Balthazar met,” Dean whispers, looking past Castiel’s shoulder, unable to meet the Alpha’s eyes.  “The joy in his eyes when they spoke.  The way he smiled when he told me they’d mated.” He blinks again, eyes cast down to where his and Castiel’s left hands are joined.  he feels the Alpha’s fingers still against his cheek and he sighs.  “I wished we could have had that.  A real courtship and not a forced… business agreement,” he says bitterly.  Castiel frowns.

“Well…,” he starts, then pauses, letting his thoughts collect themselves.  Dean looks up at him sharply, listening as his Alpha lets out a heavy, poignant sigh and begins again. “I suppose it would be a more romantic story to tell.  That you met your mate by chance while traveling and it was love at first sight.  That you were so desperate to be with the one you loved that you mated each other as soon as you could, your only thought that you need to become as close to that other person as you can, as fast as you can.” He pauses, dragging his knuckles delicately over Dean’s cheek, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. “Its an appealing idea, I think. But I cherish what we have, Dean. That I can call you my friend. My lover,” he smiles and Dean blushes. “What we have… it may not be love at first sight, or even love at all. But I wouldn’t trade it away. It’s a profound bond, we’ve built together.  I trust you with my life. You’re the dearest friend I’ve ever had, Dean. I wouldn’t give that up for the world.”

Dean leans forward and noses along the sharp edge of Castiel’s jaw, feeling his rough stubble and inhaling his heady peppermint scent.  “You are very kind, Castiel,” he says deliberately.  He kisses his Alpha’s shoulder and closes his eyes, resting his body now.  It’s now that he’s in this sated state, drifting between sleep and wakefulness that he finds himself thinking back on the room he found in the East Wing, the evil book he’d stumbled upon in that hidden room in the high tower.  He wonders if that room has disappeared, now, or maybe if it ever existed in the first place.  Maybe he imagined the whole thing happening; maybe Hannah has already gone back and destroyed the evidence of that book and that room ever existing.

“Rest, sweeting.  You’re burning a fever,” Castiel urges in his ear, and Dean nods against his shoulder, not even bothering to open his eyes.  Castiel is right; he needs his sleep.  He can ask him about the book tomorrow.  Once his heat is over.  Then he’ll be able to focus again.

Dean startles awake several hours later, the bed cold and empty and his body burning with heat.  He groans and rolls around, flopping onto his belly and then sprawling spread-eagled on his back, trying to find a comfortable position in the bed.  The sheets are thankfully cool, and Dean sees a window in the corner of the room propped open, letting a cool summer breeze blow through the room and over his sensitive skin.  He huffs in annoyance; his body is practically vibrating and its terribly uncomfortable.

“Beautiful Omega,” The bedroom door open and closes; Dean blinks hazily at Castiel as he strides into the room.  His blue cloak drags on the floor behind him, a casual dress for a tired, warm summer morning, and he smiles fondly at Dean as the Omega blinks owlishly at him.  Dean is astutely aware now of his own nudity, a thin white sheet the only clothe shielding his modesty.  It’s better this way, though; heat is taxing on the Omega’s body, and having more clothing to cover his body than necessary would only put him at risk of overheating.  Castiel steps towards the bed, a tray of food in one hand and a tall glass of water in another.  Dean licks his lips, parched, and reaches out greedily for the goods his husband brings.

“Faring well this morning?” he asks, pushing a hand through Dean’s sweat damp hair and knuckling along his cheek.  Dean hums, gulping down the last dregs of his glass and pushing it back towards Castiel’s chest.  He sighs and closes his eyes, unable to resist leaning into his Alpha’s blissful touch.  “You’re still warm.”

“It’s just heat,” he says with a sigh, letting his eyelids flutter open again.  He reaches for the tray Castiel brought into the room, plucking a few grapes off their stem and popping them into his mouth.  He sighs at the burst of flavor on his lips, happily stuffing several more handfuls into his lips.  “It’ll pass.”

Castiel frowns.  “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” he asks.  Dean shrugs, cheeks darkening.

“It’s fine, Cas.  You’ve probably got more important kingly stuff to take care of than tend to my needs,” he mutters, taking another handful of grapes from Castiel’s tray and lying down again.  In the Hunterlands, his heats had always been spent in the seclusion of his chambers, the only other people allowed to see him his Omega handmaidens.  He’d never before been allowed in the presence of an Alpha during a heat; he has to note that he’s surprised by how… normal it all feels.  He’d been trained as a young Omega, that when he was in the presence of an Alpha during heat his mind would go insane with lust and he would lose control of all his faculties.  Right now, aside form the heat and discomfort of his body, he feel completely fine.  Castiel frowns and reaches out, dragging his fingers over Dean’s shoulders and rubbing the back of the Omega’s neck.  Dean sighs pleasantly.

“There are no duties to be done so important that Hannah cannot handle them in my place for a day of two,” Castiel answers.  He bends forward and kisses Dean’s left shoulder, then presses another to his joint, then another to his bicep.  “Oh, my honey” he says, laying his cheek against the hot skin of his Omega’s back, “you really are burning up.  Shall I call the court doctor?”

Dean turns his head to lift an eyebrow at his husband.  “Have you ever been around an Omega in heat before, Cas?” he asks.  Castiel’s cheek color and he backs away.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, biting his lips.  “Hannah and the Omega handmaidens, they’ve always has taken care of Gabriel during his heats.  It was never my place as an Alpha,” he sighs.  Dean props himself up on his elbows and blinks up at his Alpha.  He appraises him with a thoughtful frown, then reaches out with a free hand and wraps his fingers around Castiel’s wrist, squeezing.

“You’re doing fine now, Cas.  Maybe… I think I’d like a bath.  A cold one?  That would be very nice.”

Castiel nods, hopping up from the bed and rushing to go collect a bathing basin from down the hall.  Dean lays with the cool sheets twisted around his body, lazily chewing grapes and small pieces of fruit as he waits for his Alpha to return.  His eyelids are heavy, body tired and warm, groin sensitive as he moves against the bedding.  He can hear the groan of metal dragging against wood from down the hallway, and he knows Castiel will be returning shortly.  Maybe, if the bath doesn’t cool his body down he’ll be able to convince his Alpha to give him his knot.

Oh, who is he kidding?  He’d smelled the arousal rolling off his husband from the moment he entered the bedroom this morning.  Castiel will be a more than willing volunteer to do whatever Dean asks of him, right now.  The thought makes Dean smile.

He climbs into the bathing basin when Castiel arrives with it, sighing in relief as the cool water laps at his skin.  He groans and tips his head back, a low purr rumbling in the back of his throat when he feels Castiel’s hands skimming against his shoulder, scooping up handfuls of water and pouring them over Dean’s scalp, wetting his hair.  He sighs and stifles a groan.

“Cas,” he sighs, practically able to feel his body temperature dropping, his heart rate slowing.  “Feels good.”  The water laps at his sweaty skin, and the coolness helps to make him feel more comfortable, helps the fog disappear from his brain.  He still feels horny, but not so much so that he needs a knot just yet.  He just took one last night and he doesn’t want to overwork himself.  He feels Castiel’s hands skimming his shoulders again, dragging a damp washcloth over his back and bared neck.  He sighs and tips his head backward, enjoying his Alpha’s attention.

“Any word from Gabriel, this day?” he asks.  

“Yes.  A messenger pigeon arrived early this morning, in fact.  He says he will depart from Berea in three days time.  I suppose that means he shall be returning early next week.”

“Will Balthazar accompany him?” Dean asks lazily.  Castiel tuts thoughtfully.

“I do not know.  The message was brief.  It wouldn’t be customary, but with Gabriel you never know.”  he scoops up some more water and lets it dribble across Dean’s scalp and the back of his neck.  Dean nods, purring softly, and closes his eyes.  Castiel smiles, and when he can no longer resist he leans in and presses several quick kisses to the bolt of Dean’s jaw, nuzzling his cheek against the Omega’s.  Dean laughs and reaches out, wrapping his long arms around Castiel’s shoulders and sloshing cool water all over the floor and his mate as he pulls Castiel in for a slow, sweet kiss.

“You’re getting me wet, Dean,” he laughs, but doesn’t pull away as Dean tangles his fingers through castiel’s unkempt hair.  He grins and surges forward for another kiss, parting his Alpha’s lips with his tongue and giggling when water sloshes over the side of the basin again, soaking the front of Castiel’s tunic.  A low, playful growl rumbles in the back of his throat and he grabs at Dean’s hands, pinning them skillfully above the Omega’s head as he thrashes in the tub.

“I can’t knot you when you’re in this tub, Dean,” he murmurs against Dean’s jaw.  he gasps and tips his head back, moving his hips in the water, feeling the slickness between his thighs and his swollen erection slapping against his leg.

“Then get in with me Alpha,” he breathes.  Castiel chuckles.

“How about you get out, sweet Omega?”

Nearly half an hour later, the sun has fully risen outside of their bedroom window, and Dean lays sated against the pillow of Castiel’s chest, whining softly everytime Castiel moves and brushes some over sensitive part of his body, whether inside or out.  Their bodies are both still damp from all the water Dean sloshed all over them while he was in the tub, but it feels good.  Castiel has one hand braced underneath Dean’s body, the other rakin blunt nails back and forth over Dean’s scalp in a soothing comb.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs against his neck, lips wet and swollen red from kissing.  Castiel hums, lazy, and continues to comb Dean’s hair with his fingers.  “In the east Wing, last week.  I was wandering about.”

“The East Wing?” he asks, frowning.  “I hope you weren’t snooping about Hannah’s chambers.”

“No,” Dean answers, huffing.  Though he does recall, vividly, his encounter with Hannah in the tower that day.  How she had raged at him for being someplace where she thought he did not belong.  ‘I was in the tower.  There’s a hallway, with many portraits.”

Castiel is quiet for a few long, contemplative moments.  His hand has stilled atop Dean’s scalp, fingers no longer going with their idle scratch.  “Ah, I see.  You saw the Milton family pedigree.” He labors a heavy sigh, resuming his stroking of Dean’s head.  “I suppose we’ll have to get one of those painted sometime,” he mutters.

“I hope you don’t intent to make me kneel,” Dean says with disgust.  Castiel reaches down, tilting Dean’s chin up and looking him firmly in the eyes.

“I’ve told you before, Your Highness.  You shall never kneel again so long as I am King of these lands,” He ducks his head forward, planting a chaste and friendly kiss to Dean’s lips before he draws away again.  He looks down at Dean curiously.  “So, you saw my pedigree.  Was that all you wanted to tell me?”

Dean doesn’t know why he says it, but the thought pops into his mind and rolls off his tongue in the same split second.  “You look so much like your older brother,” he says, and watches the expression on castiel’s face harden.  His eyes grow icy and his jaw ticks. Dean frowns, reaching out to touch castiel’s cheek with gentle fingers.  “I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t _—”_

“No, you’re right,” Castiel says, casting his gaze past Dean’s shoulder, towards the window on the far side of the room.  “There’s quite a family resemblance.  Did…,” he wets his lips with a deft tongue.  “Gabriel told you about Michael, then?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Dean whispers, dropping his chin and pressing his forehead to Castiel’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, I had no right to pry.”

“it’s just family history,” Castiel answers briskly, jaw clenching and unclenching rhythmically.  “You were bound to find out eventually.  I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors before, anyhow.”  He draws in a shaky breath, then closes his eyes, dropping his own chin and letting his forehead knock against Dean’s.  It actually hurts a little, but Dean doesn’t complain that his mate seeks the comfort of closeness now, in this emotionally vulnerable moment.  he reaches out and grabs at his mate’s arms, holding onto him as he exhales between them.  “You need to understand that this is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, Dean.  I don’t think I should ever forgive myself.  Lord knows Hannah hasn’t, and I’m sure Gabriel neither.”  he bites his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth.  “There is so much pain in taking another man’s life; to see the light leave his eyes, to steal the last breathe from his lungs.  A part of yourself dies with that man as well.”

“Cas…,” Dean whispers, stroking light fingers over his husband’s jaw.  He doesn’t want Castiel to relive the agony of killing his own brother.  He can see it i the twisted expression of his face, in the sour scent of his pain.

“He wasn’t the same in the end, though.  At least I think he was different.  There was this moment, right at the end... God, I think he looked scared, Dean.  He said my name.  He looked so… betrayed,” Castiel’s voice quakes.  “He would have killed me if I hadn’t struck first.  I know that for sure,” he swallows and closes his eyes, “But I don’t think he ever expected it from me.  His baby brother.”

Castiel sniffs, turning his cheek and resting it against Dean’s bare shoulder.  Dean strokes his fingers through castiel’s hair, soothing him in the same way that he had soothed Dean earlier.

“What happened to his mate?” Dean whispers after a long silence.  The question has been bothering him since he saw her portrait hanging in the hallway.  He wondered where she was; if he could help her in some way.  Castiel shrugs.

“She was gone by the time we thought to look for her. She must have seen Michael and I dueling on the turret… And she fled,” he scowls.  “And with good reason.  She was a witch.  I’d have had her stoned for what she did to my brother,” he sniffs, hard.  “The evil she corrupted him with.”

Castiel’s knot has gone down enough by now that they can slip apart, and Dean pulls away from his husband so he can dress himself in a light tunic.  Now that his heat has been sated he isn’t feeling so hot anymore, and there’s a light breeze coming through the open window that makes him shiver.  He selects a pale blue tunic from the cupboard; its one of the new ones castiel had made for him when he moved to Eden, and he wraps it around his nude body with care.  Castiel watches him from the bed with glassy eyes, smiling weakly once Dean returns to the bed and sits down beside him.  He runs his hand over Castiel’s flank.

“Are you tired?” he asks.  Castiel smirks.

“Not nearly, fairhead,” he says with a wolfish grin.  Dean cannot help but roll his eyes; it’s such an Alpha thing to say.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Dean says softly after the breadth of a moment.  “I can’t imagine… I’m sorry that you’ve suffered such pain, Castiel.  You are a good Alpha.  It hurts my own heart to know that you suffer this burden…”

“It is nothing,” Castiel says in a rush, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Dean’s torso, clutching his body close.  Dean doesn’t believe what his husband says, but he lets it go.  He sighs and closes his eyes, leaning back against his husband.  though the hardest part of the heat has passed, his Alpha’s touch is still a comfort to his needy body.

“The study, in the East Wing,” Dean begins carefully.  he feels castiel’s fingers tighten on the cloak that’s draped about his body.  “Was that Michael’s?”

“What were you doing in there?” Castiel asks in a rush.  Dean’s cheeks color red, the tips of his ears burning.  He shrugs.

“Exploring.  You had told me to look for hidden rooms.  I didn’t…,” he trails off, letting out an exasperated huff.  “I didn’t think I’d actually find one.  The whole wall just gave way and I feel into this room!  And what a… scary room.” He frowns.

“That entranceway was meant to be sealed off after Michael died,” Castiel says with a scowl.  “You didn’t touch anything in there, did you?” he snaps, a worried frown tugging at his lips.  Dean coughs, nervous, and castiel tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at his husband.  Dean growls and elbows Castiel’s side.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Squint-a-Pipes.  Of course I didn’t touch nothing,” he says.  Castiel’s eyes are now narrowed down to two slits, and Dean knows he’s not going to get out of this situation unscathed.  His husband is on to him (and it probably has to do with his changing scent; Dean has never been able to tell a lie in his life without stinking the whole room up with the scent of garlic).

He’s saved from revealing the truth by the sound of a huge crash in the hallway, and then their bedroom door flies open and the court Advisor, Metatron, tumbles into the room.  Castiel growls and moves his body to shield the view of Dean, the Omega only halfway decent wearing his pale tunic and nothing else.  Forget the fact that the King is completely nude.

“Your Highness,” Metatron wheezes, eyes wide, and he clutches onto the door handle like if he lets go, he will collapse to the earth.  He looks like he just might collapse, either way.  “It’s your sister, Your Highness.  Hannah _—_ she’s collapsed,” his voice trembles.  “Castiel, she’s _dead_ ,” he cries.  Dean’s heart nearly stops in his chest and he gasps, hands flying up to cover his mouth.  Castiel growls again and stands, grabbing his trousers from the edge of the bed and hastening to pull them on.  Dean stands as well and goes to fetch his own skirt, but Metatron’s voice from the doorway stops him.

“Your Highness, you cannot let the delicate Omega see,” he says, and then lowers his voice a decibel to whisper.  “It looks like she was killed by Dark Magic, Sire.”

Castiel’s eyes, wide and filled with fear, anger, meet Dean’s from across the room.  Still stepping into their clothes, castiel reaches out and twines his fingers with Dean’s to form a handband.  He ignores his Advisor’s request, as he does more often than not, and together he and Dean rush to descend the stairway to the throne room.

Whatever it is that has taken his sister’s life, Castiel wants himself and his husband equally prepared.  And if it is Dark Magic, they will be preparing for war.


	2. PART 3 IS UP!

Part 3, hue and cry, was posted earlier this month. Please go take a look when you get the chance! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688579/chapters/33939111

**Author's Note:**

> 25k later... please let me know what you think! This work is not yet Beta'd so feel free to point out any grammar or spelling errors you spot. I know I had some issues with capitalization.
> 
> COMMENT & leave KUDOS please! Your reviews mean a LOT to me!


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